The Fangirl
by BFTLandMWandSEK
Summary: So let me get this straight: I was stuck in some universe where Hetalia is real. In said universe, I was being forced to be Seychelles- the very character I despised -and hook up with either France or England- the very pairing I loved. And to top the icing on this cake, the one Turk meant to guide me is a jerk. I hate my life. -A satire look on the Hetalia fandom-
1. Welcome to Your New Body

_**From the person who brought you "HETA". . .**_

**SEK: ***looks up* MW, what the hell is that? *MW grins*

_**. . . A satire comedy about respecting each other's fandoms. . .**_

**SEK: **Seriously, it's starting to freak me out.

**MW: **Shhh! It's getting to the best part!

_**Ladies and Gentlemen, MidnasWolf presents "The Fangirl"**_

**MW: **You likey? I figured that for my next story, we should have an epic announcer.

**SEK: **You idiot! Do you know how expensive that is? Please don't tell me you spent all of the money we made off of HETA to hire him. *Silence* you did, didn't you?

**MW: **Yeah, but look on the Brightside! I now have a legitimate reason to go out of my element (Action/Drama) and write another story!  
**SEK: **-_- You better be able to pay the announcer.

**MW: **I will! As long as people review (since that is the currency in this AN universe) we will be find.

For any fans of HETA, you may or may not notice, but this story goes in a completely different direction. So no action. But there will be drama and delicious plot twist!

Also, I know that the OCs are cheesy. That was done on purpose. I'm making fun of the OC genre.

Is that everything? Good.

Review~!

**Story Summary: **So let me get this straight:I was stuck in some universe where Hetalia is real. In this universe, I was being forced to be Seychelles- the very character I despised -and hook up with either France or England- the very pairing I loved. I hate my life.

**Chapter Summary: **Sherry wakes up in an unfamiliar bedroom with an unfamiliar man

**Warnings: **Strong Language, Yaoi, and Sexual references.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia. I do, however, own Sherry, Bella, and the rest of the Sue family.

* * *

**~Chapter 1~**

**Welcome to Your New Body**

"_You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view."_  
**-Harper Lee, American Author**

* * *

**Cycle 1: Monday**

I groaned and tried to reach for the alarm clock. It was blaring some Lady Gaga song on full volume. I don't know about you guys, but listening to sex songs at seven o'clock in the morning is not the best way to get up. I hit the button and smiled when silence filled the room. I could sleep for another five or so minutes. It was only Monday.  
It was Monday.

Shit.

I threw the blankets off of me and hurried, started to get ready. I had to get ready for school, I had to-

Immediately, I was faced with a problem. "What the hell!" I screamed, terrified of the mirror in front of me. My reflection was a skinny, nicely endowed, African girl. She stared back at me with wide brown eyes and black hair pulled into low pigtails.

I screamed again. The image in my mirror screamed as well. This was wrong! I'm a pale ginger who burns easily in the sun- not a pretty black girl. Panting, I ran my hand through my hair. It was straight and as soft as silk. Mine was dry and curly-to-the-point-of-being-a-bird's-nest. I looked down at my hands and saw that they were black, not white. I opened my mouth to scream again.

"Do not scream." I paused, wide-eyed. There was someone else- a man -in this room. "I know that you are a little scared right now, but this is no time to scream." I didn't move. There was some strange man in my room. He was going to attack, rape, and then brutally murder me. Attempting gentleness, he urged, "Turn around and face me, Seychelles."

Wait, Seychelles? Why was he calling me by the name of an anime character? Well, I did look a lot like her. Everything from the eyes to height made me the perfect carbon copy. In fact, I could be the world's greatest Seychelles cosplayer.

I felt another wave of panic flush through me. No, no, this is wrong! What was going on? Why was I here? What in the world could I have done to deserve such punishment?

I looked back at the night before, trying to figure out what I did . . .

* * *

**Real Word: Sunday**

I sat at my laptop, drawing more fan art as I chatted with Bella through Skype. Bella Moon has been a friend of mine since, like, forever. She was a gorgeous blond who earned perfect grades while being captain of the soccer team. No joke, this girl was the very definition of perfect. If you went on to Urban Dictionary and searched 'Bella Moon', you would get 'the most perfect bitch that wastes her time with the ugliest of bitches.'

The 'ugliest of bitches' those jerks were referring to was me. I was just simply Sherry Sue. My hair was this long, tangly, and a disgusting orange color. It made the Pepto Bismol pink look appetizing. It probably was the reason why I loved to drink that crap anyways. But at least it shielded the world from my pimple-ridden and mostly-sunburned face.

Ahem, moving on.

I was just putting the finishing touches on France's amazing hair as Bella chatted away about the next con we were going to attend. ". . . I was thinking about cosplaying as Seychelles," she was saying. If she were to have a flaw, it would be her excessive ability to talk. My drawing music was just listening to her rant about her day. "I mean, I love her character and I cosplayed as Finland last year anyways so it is about time I did her."

I scowled and resisted the puissant urge to bash her. "Great idea Bell," I growled, adjusting the mike carefully. "You would make a perfect Seychelles." I didn't have a problem with her cosplaying as Seychelles- not at all. I just have a problem with the character herself.

I became a Hetalia fangirl two years ago and I have never looked back. There were merchandise and posters scattered strategically around my room. I loved everything about it- especially the "FrUk." France and England were just made for each other. Their old married couple chemistry perfectly displayed both of their characters to the fullest- France with his flirty ways and England with his cute, tsundere face. I never understood how people could like those other pairings like "Franada" or "UsUK". They just couldn't compete.

Then- of course -Bella started watching the series. Like me, she fell in love with everything about it. Like me, she researched everything there was to know about it. Like me, she read a million different fan fictions and drew millions of pieces of art.

Unlike me, her favorite paring was heterosexual. That's right; she loves the love triangle of France, Seychelles, and England. This all started sometime after she learned about the Gakuen Hetalia game. Apparently, there was something "incredibly true and lovable" about the "dynamics" of their relationships.

Complete bullshit.

I heard Bella sigh. "Sherry, I can tell you're lying," she said. Somehow she just always knew. "C'mon now, tell me the truth. I know you hate it." There was no point in trying to be the good friend; she knew.

"You know I hate Seychelles," I grumbled, pressing my stylist harder into my tablet. I was drawing a picture of France holding England amongst a dark field of blood-red flowers. "And besides, you're not even black. How can you cosplay as an African nation if you can't fit the part?"

Just as Bella started to say something about make-up, Mom knocked loudly on my door and invited herself in. My mom, Mary Sue, was also incredibly perfect.

Her orange hair was straight and complimented her flawless face perfectly. Plus she was skinny without even trying. Like seriously, she started every morning with a Jell-O Pudding cup and somehow managed to have a perfectly small waist.

Not to say that I was fat or anything. I just had a small pudge at my stomach and thick thighs. The doctor said I was still at a healthy weight, so I had no problem with it. Then again, my Wii fit board says the exact opposite. . .

Mom balanced a white laundry basket on her hip. "Just placing this on your bed," she said, maneuvering around the junk littering my floor. One of these days, I will clean it. But not now.

My mother glanced at my computer screen and noted my drawing. "That's a very good picture, Sherry," she said, placing the basket on my bed. She placed a hand on my chair and leaned on, giving me a good whiff of her floral perfume. "Is that France and England?" These were one of those moments when I had to admit that my mom is awesome.

She is an otaku. I didn't know how much she knew about Hetalia- she was more of a Full Metal Alchemist girl -but she respected my yaoi fangirl needs. Never questioned me when I asked her to critique my fan fictions or drive me to the nearest con. Yeah, she was that awesome. Unlike the little brats . . .

"Oh my God, is that more yaoi?" My brother, Larry, peeked his head into my room. His twin, Jerry, copied him, but said nothing. Well, speak of the devil, there they were. The only thing you had to know about them was that they looked like twelve year old versions of George and Fred Wesley. But they weren't half as funny or drop dead gorgeous. I bet Jerry could be if he tried, but he was off limits to girls.

Larry continued to huff, "Can't you be normal for once and like straight people?"

"Get out of my room," I snapped, hunching my back into the keyboard. Get out, get out, get out, get out, get out. . .

Larry stuck his tongue at me. If Mom wasn't in the room, then he would've given me the bird. "I'm not in your room," he taunted. "I'm in the hall."

"Larry. . ." My mom placed her hands on her hips and looked at them with disappointment. "Leave your sister alone," she ordered. "Didn't your father say that you had to be nice to her?" My dad, Gary Sue, was a traveling reporter. He was always seeing the world, writing about the latest war or natural disaster. More often than not he was never here.

The twin stuck his tongue at me again before storming away. Jerry gave him a wistful look and whispered, "I like it." Like the good brother he was, he trailed after Larry like an adorable, bashful puppy. I smiled to myself. Jerry was always so sweet and understanding.

Mom sighed and started to leave the room. "I think your drawing is very good," she said. "I hope those people on deviantArt appreciate the effort you put into it. Now if only I could get your brother. . ." She closed the door behind her, muttering about the twins.

Inside, I was nervously laughing. Three years ago, when I was thirteen, I watched "The Ouran High School Host Club" for the first time. You know how there were the twin brothers that pretended to be a couple to attract ladies? Well I thought it was very sexy and tried to get Larry and Jerry to be gay and incestuous towards each other. I succeeded with Jerry, but I accidently made Larry a homophobic.

Yeah, that was a family therapy session just waiting to happen.

"Sherry, are you still there?" I blinked and returned to my conversation with Bella.  
"Yeah, I'm still here," I said. "The family just interrupted me."

I could hear her sing-song chuckle through the microphone. For the millionth time she joked, "Sometimes I hate your mom. She is always a Mary-Sue." Do you know how many times I get that pun? It was lame the first time I heard it and it didn't get funnier every time afterwards.

Finished with my drawing, I saved it and started to log onto deviantArt. I drowned my voice in sarcasm as I pretended to laugh. "Ha, ha, very funny."

"Aw, Sher-Bear! It's just a joke."

"It's a terrible one."

"But it's so true!"

"Don't remind me."

"You're no fun."

"You're so annoying."

"That was mean."

"Well, I am a bitch."

"Watch your language!"

"Like I give a shit," I resorted. The sweet sound of her annoyed groaned met my ears. I loved annoying her. "Aw, Bel-Chell, cheer up!" I mocked.

Bella growled deeply, saying, "Why don't we change the subject? Like, why don't you like my Seychelles cosplay?"

I replied simply, "Because I hate Seychelles." I could hear her sigh. It sounded like the mellifluous voice of "Snow White." Geez, I hate that movie. So boring. "Tangled" is so much better. And Flynn Rider. Mmmm, he was sexy.

"Why do you hate her?" Bella asked. "There is nothing wrong with her character."

"She's a Mary-Sue. Absolutely perfect and stealing all of the Hetalia guys!" I explained. We went through the argument so often, I already knew her reply. Quickly, I prepared my counter arguments. I opened another tab to a Hetalia fan information website and looked at the common pairings list.

"She's not paired up with that many men," my friend resorted, a slight huff in her voice. In a boxing match, Bella stood in her corner of the ring, gloved hands raised."You only don't like her because she ruins you're 'FrUk.'"

I frowned. I pulled my gloves on and faced her, ready for the bloodshed. "That's one of the reasons. But I'm on the Hetalia Archives right now and you want to know who she's paired up with?"

I could hear her roll her eyes. "Here we go again-" She prepared herself to be hit.

I gave her a right hook to the face. "England, France, Japan, America, Italy, and Iceland."

"I have the same page up, Sherry," Bella returned. She caught my punch and twisted my arm painfully. "They took Iceland off the list." Damnit.

"Because there is no basis," I said. I yanked my arm away. I'm done with this fight. I pulled out my gun and just shot her face off. Ha, ha victory is mine. "None of those pairings have a good enough basis."

In a total cliché manner, Little Miss Perfect's voice lowered to a low rumble. "You better be careful Sherry," she warned. "One day, you're going to say the wrong thing and this is going to come back to bite you."

Groaning, I rubbed my eyes and uploaded the image. I quickly retorted, "I guess I should have forwarded those stupid chain mail messages." She started to say something, but I overlapped her. "Sorry Bella, gotta go. See you tomorrow." I ended the chat and smirked. She was going to kill me. But who was I to give a damn?

In the famous words of the Sassy Gay Friend, "She is such a stupid bitch."

* * *

**Cycle 1: Monday**

I shook my head. There was no way this was some form of karma. I bet that this is a dream or a prank crafted by Larry. No way I was stuck in an anime character's body. I snapped back to reality as the mysterious man spoke again, this time with impatience. "I said, turn around Seychelles." Perhaps, he would know what was going on.

Slowly, I did as I was told. Of course, I was not in my bedroom. All of my posters were missing and the floor wasn't strewn with clothes. These walls were a clean white and the pictures were that of heavenly vacation beaches. I could see an equally clean desk, closet, and bathroom. Sitting by the rectangular window stretching across the wall was the man.

He looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties. His skin was dark and his eyes were this amber color. His nearly black hair was hidden under a green hoodie, but I could still see a random curl sticking out from the back. Around his neck was a sparkling pink scarf that was more meant for Barbie than him. The man was handsome; I could not help but to stare.

"Took you long enough," he grumbled, his arms folded over his chest. "Do you even speak English?" I slowly nodded, unsure of what I should do. He pressed his lips together and stood. Like some sort of vulture (or pedophile), he circled me, examining every inch of my body. "You didn't damage the body," he noted. "That's good-"

"Who are you?" I demanded, shivering at my strange voice. My usual gruff voice was replaced by that of an angel's. Damn, I even sounded like Seychelles. "Where am I? What am I doing here?"

The man sighed and flopped back into his seat. "Of course you'll be confused," he muttered. "That jackass never explains anything." I noticed his quaint, foreign accent. Where was he from? Giving me a small smile, he extended his hand and introduced himself. "I am the Republic of Turkey."

He was what? I stared at him with wide eyes. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"I am not."

I felt another wave of panic. This was Turkey from Hetalia. The freaking personified nation. He looked exactly like him, seemed to act the way I expected him to, and sounded pretty Turkish. If this shit was real, then that means I really am in Seychelles's body.

Turkey frowned and lowered his hand. "Who are you?" he asked. "I would like to know who I am working with-"

"Working with!" For a moment, I was embarrassed at how panicky I was getting. Whenever there was a "fangirl-meets-cannon-character-story", they always were able to keep their cool. But no, I was freaking out more than a sugar-high Twilight fan. "Why the hell would I be working with you?" I demanded. "Why the fuck am I here? Why did I change fucking races?"

He stood, patting the air with his hands. "Alright, just calm down miss," he said, suddenly aware of his insensitivity. The nation placed a hand on my shoulder and eased me on the edge of the bed. Like a gentleman, he scooted his chair closer to me and held my hand. "We're going to take this one step at a time, got it?" Dumbly, I nodded.

Sounding like the therapist my brothers desperately needed, he asked, "What is your name?"

"S-Sherry Sue," I stuttered.

He nodded, patting my hand. "Okay Sherry." There was something oddly comforting about his voice. He really was trying to make sure I didn't have a heart attack or something. "You are here because some jackass wants you to understand what it means to be someone else," Turkey said, looking dead serious to me. I gave him a blank look. CrazyTurkishmansaywhat? Sighing, he tried again. "There is this jackass out there- I can't say who -but he wants you to be empathic towards Seychelles."

He had to be kidding me. "So I'm-"

"You're stuck here in her body until you can." He wasn't.

Stomach acids jumped up my throat. "Are you serious?" I asked. I still didn't believe him.

"Yes." I felt faint. Shit like this just doesn't happen. These kinds of things only happen in lame Hetalia fan fictions. There the OC is oh-so-perfect with her oh-so-perfect hair and her oh-so-perfect sex appeal. Just like the oh-so-perfect Bella.

Turkey inched a bit closer and squeezed my hand. "Do you understand Sherry?" he asked. "You're stuck here until you do what that jackass wants."

With that, I was terrified again. My hands were shakling and I felt all heat leave my body. Heistantly, I softly asked, "And what does he want?"

He sighed and struggled to find a way to explain it. "According to that jackass, you have to get one of two nations to kiss you," he said. "Kind of like in that mermaid movie."

I cocked an eyebrow. If he meant "The Little Mermaid", then that means . . . "A true love's kiss?" Turkey nodded, looking glad that I finally understood. "With who?"

And the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. "Either England or France." He had to be bullshitting me. None of this had to be real. If it was, then I was stuck in some universe where Hetalia is real. In this universe, I was being forced to be Seychelles- the very character I despised -and hook up with either France or England- the very pairing I loved. He must have found my multiple "FrUk" fan fictions and decided to torture me.

I fell back onto the bed and grabbed the pillow. "You've gotta be kidding me," I muttered. Smothering its fluffiness into my face, I added, "This is all just some screwed up dream."

Turkey groaned. "This is not a dream," he growled, easily annoyed with me. "All of this is real."

I threw the pillow at him. "Prove it." The next thing I knew, he was forcing me to sit up and open my mouth. He forced an uncapped bottle into my mouth. Sweet tasting apple juice alerted my senses and nearly choked me. Coughing, I forced him away.

"People don't taste anything in dreams," the nation explained. He was right. Never, in any dream I ever dreamt, had I tasted anything. Sure, we all feel pain, but taste just didn't happen. "All of this is real."At last, I believed him. Barely. Some little remote corner of my brain told me that this was all still a dream.

Either way, the sudden realization of my situation hit me straight on. I resisted trepidation and slowly processed everything. "So I'm really here, huh?" I nervously laughed. "Oh, splendid. Um, who did you say was behind all this?"

Obviously relieved at my acceptance, Turkey resumed his job of being the know-it-all. "I can't tell you," he said. "But just know that he's a jackass."

I think I knew who our antagonist was. Readily, I asked, "Is it someone named Bella Moon?"

It only made him confused. "Who?"

"_I guess she's the good guy,_" I thought, secretly feeling relieved. It made the whole situation a lot better. Who would want their friend to be the bad guy? I nodded and asked again, "And all I have to do is get one of them to kiss me?"

At this point, he was starting to get annoyed. "A true love's kiss." That was easy. All I had to do was get Fra- Turkey growled, "And France having lustful sex with you does not count." Damnit! What was he, a freaking mind reader? I frowned "It has to be a true love's kiss. They-"

I completed, "Have to love me." I swore. "Damn, does this really have to be so cliché?"

For once, the man chuckled. "I didn't make the rules," he said. The tolling of church-like bells filled the air around us, reminding me of the world I was in. "School's going to start in ten minutes," Turkey said, motioning for me to get ready. "I'll explain a few more things as you get dress, alright?"

I turned a deep shade of red as he dragged me off the bed and to Seychelles's clothing. "I am not dressing in front of you!" I screamed, noticing for the first time that I was wearing a flimsy white night gown.

He continued to shove me towards my closet. "History Teacher Pangaea is not going to like it if we're late," he growled. "And what's wrong with dressing in front of me?"

"You're a guy!" I yelled, checking my (or I guess Seychelles's) closet. There were a few articles of casual clothes, but most of the hangars had the Gakuen Hetalia uniform on them. "I'm a girl! It's elementary!"

Turkey face palmed. Slowly pronouncing every word (as if I was some sort of idiot), he explained, "I. Have. A. Boyfriend."

I could literally hear the angels sing. Those words are the dream of every Hetalia fangirl. A canon character has a boyfriend. The yaoi is actually real! I squealed and turned to him excitedly. "Who is he?" I inquired, jumping up and down with anticipation. "Is it Greece? Egypt? Japan?"

I frowned when a disgusted look covered his face. "Ew, no!" He exclaimed. "Why would I want to date my friend and enemy?" My heart dropped. Unless it was Nyotalia Hungary, I had no idea who else he would date. Suddenly, a look of enlightenment came upon him.

I guess he knew ways to trick me, since he offered a proposal. "Sherry, if you get dressed right now and listen to everything I tell you, then I will tell you who my boyfriend is. Deal?"

Timidly, I turned away from him and pulled my dress off. My face was burning hotter than Arizona in the summer. Gay or not, I was not going to let him see me naked. "Deal." And yet I do it anyways. As I struggled to find my- Seychelles's -bra and pull the clothes over me, the man kindly looked away and rambled about our situation.

"Every country, by the order of our bosses, is attending this high school," he explained. "You and I have all the same classes together. No one but the two of us knows that this is going on, and we have to keep it that way."

He switched gears and started formulating my seduction strategy. "Every day after school, Seychelles would help England and France with their student council duties. The Brit is the president and the other one's the vice. It'll be the perfect time for you to win their hearts." He turned around and saw that I was completely dressed.

I wore the summer uniform: A red plaid jumper over a white blouse and a black tie. However, I had my knee high black socks rolled down and I was rubbing lotion on to my skin. Again, Turkey face palmed. "Sherry, what are you doing?" he demanded.

"I found Seychelles's lotion," I explained, pointing to a bottle on the desk. "It had shea butter in it and I just have to use it."

Something I said made him nervous. Habitually, he pulled out a gold pocket watch and glanced at the time. As the five minute bells rung, I wondered why he would have such an item on him. Himaruya never mentioned that in his character profile. "Shea butter?" he asked. "What is so special about shea butter?"

"I don't know!" I rolled up my socks and pulled on my shoes. "It's in every lotion you use, yet no one knows exactly what it is."

He gave me a blank look. "How do you not know what shea butter is?" he asked. "You have to be an idiot to not to."

A proposal of my own came to be. I smiled broadly at him and offered, "Hey Turkey, if I get this kiss would you find out for me what shea butter is?"

Said man took my hand, gave me my book bag, dragged me out of the dorm and down the hall. The halls were wide, lined with large windows on one side and wood doors on the other. The tan marble floor below us echoed our clicking feet. "Alright, fine," he said hurriedly. He picked up the pace to a quick jog. "We have less than one minute to get to class."

I stumbled behind him. Seychelles's feet were small and delicate. I was afraid that if I didn't watched every step I took, I was going to break them like glass. "Wait! But you didn't tell me-"

Just as the last bell tolled, Turkey stopped in front of a closed door. "Damnit," he cursed. "Late." For a moment, he straightened his blue plaid pants and fixed his hoodie and scarf. "Remember, no one knows about this except us, so I have to start calling you Seychelles now, got it?"

I nodded. "Sure, but can I call you Sadiq?" What? Every time I wrote fan fiction, I use their human names, not the nation ones. It was just weird calling a human being 'Turkey' over and over again.

He gave me a weird look. "Um, sure, but not in public." He stepped away from the door and motioned for me to go inside. "The teacher's name is History Teacher Pangaea and the period right now is obviously world history. I'll join you in a few minutes so that it doesn't look kinky, got it?" Wow, I never think that far ahead. At least I knew that the Turk was on my side.

I gave Sadiq a thumbs up and opened the door to the inside. Immediately, a stern but kind voice greeted me. "You're late Miss Seychelles." History Teacher Pangaea stood at a whiteboard, armed with an expo marker. She was a rather plump lady with tanned skin and long green-streaked-blond hair. Ocean like blue eyes regarded me from behind a pair of circular glasses.

I smiled uncertainly and scratched the back of my head. The classroom looked like a college lecture room. Stair-like levels rose above me in a circular shape. Long tables curved with them, each spot filled with an extremely handsome person. I stared at the class, studying the faces.

If this was a dream, then it was a damn good one.

If this was a joke, then these people were awesome cosplayers.

If this was real, then I died and went to heaven because these were the literal countries.

There was Japan, Lithuania, Finland, Russia, Cuba, Austria, and countless other characters. There was a majority (mostly the Latino and African countries) that I could not recognize. A bubble of joy welled inside of me. Oh my God, forget my panic attack earlier, this is freaking awesome!

"Miss Seychelles, would you kindly take your seat?" The teacher asked. Brought back to the real world, I rushed to the nearest empty desk.

It was right next to Estonia's (which, consequently, was right by Russia's). In real life, the Baltic state was rather plain looking. He had this bland blond hair and oddly colored violet eyes. His glasses did look hot though. I always had a thing for guys with glasses.

History Teacher Pangaea settled back into her lecture and continued on about the war of someone's ear. I caught something about England, but everything else entered one ear and exited the next. "What?" I breathed, giving a crazy look at the white board. She was writing in this thick cursive writing that I could not read.

"Having a problem Seychelles?" Estonia asked, typing the notes onto his laptop. He was completely engrossed with the screen; he didn't even bother to look at me. What a nerd.

You also probably look like that right now. I suggest you take a moment to rub your eyes and get a glass of water.

. . .

Refreshed now? Okay, good. Back to the action.

I nodded. "Yes. What is she even talking about?"

The blonde stopped typing and scooted his chair closer to mine. "It's the War of Jenkins' Ear," he whispered, loud enough for me to hear. "It was a conflict between England and Spain from 1739 to 1748."

As he spoke, I noticed a particular country with a sexy ass in front of me. Being higher up then him, I could easily see the roots of his dark. Spanish hair. Spain's back was slightly hunched and the aura he admitted was a rather embarrassed one. Wow, the first good look I get of the guy and he was depressed.

Surely a bad omen.

"Thanks," I said. I pulled out one of Seychelles's notebooks (how does she write so neatly?) and did my best to take notes. "_Where is Sadiq?" _I wondered, scribbling something about Georgia. I still had no idea what Pangaea was talking about. "_Shouldn't he have made his entrance by now?" _

Right on cue, the door swung open and my mentor came strutting in. He held his head high and had his hands buried in his hoodie's pockets. Tagging along with him was America, looking just as hot as the voice actor who voiced him (What? Eric Vale is drop dead sexy!). He was laughing at some joke, going about their merry way.

History Teacher Pangaea turned around and placed her hands on her hips. "Mister Turkey, Mister America; you're both late," She started, giving them the stink eye. I haven't seen that move since middle school. Even now it was terrifying. "Care to explain ourselves?"

Sadiq fingered the pink scarf around his neck and smiled. "I couldn't leave my room without this," he said. "My boyfriend would kill me." Wait a second. A pink, sparkly scarf? Does that mean-

"Like Turkey! You, like, totally care!" Sure enough, Poland stood in his seat and waved his hands around in the air excitedly. I immediately banged my head on my desk. Not because he was wearing the girl's uniform with bright pink accessories (I actually expected that).

"TurkeyXPoland" is a crack pairing! Like all crack pairings, it does not make any freaking sense! Why would a competitive Turkish man love an energetic crossing-dressing Pole? Does not compute!

I felt Estonia nudge my shoulder. "Seychelles, is something wrong?" he asked.

Groaning, I lifted my head and glared at him. I bluntly asked him, "Since when was Turkey dating Poland?"

Violet eyes blinked and gave me an odd look. "They've been a package for a few months," he explained. "Everyone knows that."

"_Of course._" I scowled and felt my mood sour. "_Just when he admits to being gay too." _I sluggishly straightened myself up and regained my composure, saying, "Right. And I suppose 'Spamano' is nonexistent here too."

"What's 'Spamano'?"

I mentally cursed to myself. That's right; no one here knows that they are part of a Japanese fandom. I laughed and tried to cover up, but the look on the nation's face ordered me not to. "It's what I call Spain and Romano," I said sheepishly. "When they're... you know... a couple."

Estonia's face grew wide with disgust. "How can you say that?" he demanded. "You know he-" Another, more obnoxious voice cut him off.

America, trying to explain his tardiness, yelled, "But there's no point in us learning history!" It seemed as though there was a spotlight shining down on him, making him the center of attention.

Our teacher pressed her lips together. "You may have experienced it, but we do not want you to repeat it," she said testily. Years of training made her not immediately give up on the idiot. "We wouldn't want another World War, or perhaps another War of Jenkins' Ear." Only a teacher would tie their scolding in with the lesson they were giving.

America shoved a hamburger (where in fudge's name did he get that?) into his mouth. Masticating loudly, he defended, "But if we really want to learn history, we could just look at each other's facebook pages!"

The bell rang, signaling the end of our class period. "Detention for one hour," she ordered, jabbing her expo marker at him. The class stood and gathered their books together, ready to migrate to the next classroom. I shoved all of my notebooks into my light blue bag and quickly ran to meet up with Sadiq.

I pushed through the crowd of nations, trying to find him. I did not want to be alone here. I could be attacked and raped. By Canada! Yeah, it was _that_ dangerous! Though, I did take a moment to slap Spain's ass. Hey, if you were there, you would have done the exact same thing (don't try to deny it).

Eventually, I found my Turkish mentor in the hallway, affectionately talking to Poland. They held hands and laughed at some joke they were sharing. I stopped dead in my tracks. "_What in the world . . ."_ There was an undoubtedly happy look in both their eyes.

Someone banged into my back, causing me to stumble forward a few steps. "Hey!" I exclaimed, turning around to face him. "Watch where you're-" My voice fell dead. Standing before me was a teenager, barely reaching my height. He had pale blond hair and piercing blue eyes. There was a crucifix hanging from his neck. He looked so much like. . .

"I'm sorry," he apologized in a thick German accent. "I just needed to give Germany something an-"

I pointed my finger directly at him. "You're Holy Rome!" I yelled, feeling giddy all over. When he nodded, I immediately swooped down and hugged him. "You're so cute~!" I squealed, collapsing into a fangasm. Bella owed me ten bucks- "Germany = HRE" theory was so not real. "You came back! This is so cool! You're probably hooked for Italy, right?" looked at him with expecting brown eyes.

Holy Rome gave me a crazy look, as if to say 'where have you been for the past few years'? There was a nervousness in his voice when he clarified, "Uh, no I didn't." My heart dropped. If he didn't come back for Italy, then who? My answer came soon enough.

"Holy Rome!" Russia filled the space around us as he loomed happily over us. His height made him more intimidating than scary. "Where have you been, comrade?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear. "I have something I want to give you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic bag filled with gold cookies. "I made you beer cookies!" He announced. "You like them, da?"

The blond delicately took the package in his hands, admiring it like it was a long lost treasure. What the hell? "Oh Russia, it's perfect," he sighed. I wanted to barf. I did not order a fluff moment with extra cheese. "But-" He reached into his own bag and pulled out a tin container. "-I made you cookies as well. Vodka flavored." Oh. My. God. Another crack pairing? "RussiaXHolyRome"? What the bloody hell?

Before I could witness any more of the mind scarring scene, Sadiq kissed his boyfriend's cheek, sent him off in the opposite direction, and came to my rescue. He took my arm and dragged me away, saying, "Get your head back together, Seychelles. You've ought to have seen this many times before."

"No I haven't!" I exclaimed. "That was a crack pair-" Sadig slammed a hand over my mouth and motioned for me to be quiet. He glanced around us before discreetly pulling me into the nearest room. AKA: The boy's bathroom.

As I stood awkwardly inside(how are the urinals so clean? If guys had to aim to use them, I would think that they would be a lot dirtier), Sadiq locked the door and checked the stalls. "Are you trying to tell the world about our problem, Sherry?" He demanded, looking not that pleased with me. "You just can't talk about relationships as if they're some work of fiction."

In my defense, I believed he was overreacting. There was nothing wrong with me referring to couples as 'pairings'. I mean, if I was walking down the hall and sudden heard someone yell "Sherry and Bella would make a terrible pairing!" I would think nothing of it. Scratch that, I would be wondering why they thought I was a lesbian. And then I would wonder why they used the word 'pairing'. A normal person would say 'couple' . . .

I just proved myself wrong, didn't I?

Damnit.

"But this is a fictional world," I defended. "Everyone here is the result of some Japanese dude's obsession with history."

Sadiq's face looked like a mixture between confusion and shock. "Really? That's kind of-" He stopped and growled at me. "Don't get me off topic!" he ordered. "The fact is that you nearly ruined everything!"

I heaved an exasperated sigh. "But it's Holy Rome and Russia! They're complete opposites! How are they a couple?"

He groaned and threw his arms up in the air. "I don't know! Love works in strange ways? Heart before matter? Opposites attract? Take your pick!"

I crossed my arms and glared at him. "Well if opposites attract, Prussia and Austria better be having regular sex." The school bells sounded, telling us that we were late to class.

Sadiq smacked his forehead and muttered curses in his native language. He sounded ready to kill me when he told me that "That's not possible. Austria's with Latvia and Prussia's a straighty."

"Whatever." I adjusted the straps to my bag and unlocked the door. "I'm outta here." Just when I had the door completely swung open, my mentor ordered me to come back. I ignored him and marched forward. It wasn't until I was down the hall did I realize that I had no idea where or what my next class was.

I stomped my foot in fustration. Shit. I sat my bag on the ground and empty the contents. That stupid bitch better have kept a class schedule somewhere. I was flipping through my fifth notebook when I noticed someone running down the hall, shouting at me.

"Seychelles!" A gruff voiced yelled. Immediately, I recognized the nation. It was Germany- freaking Germany -looking as happy as an emotionally constipated German could. He slowed a bit and waited until there was barely a yard between us before asking, "What in the world have you been doing? You should be in class right now."

I gave a nervous laugh and tried to think of some lie. If someone was viewing this scene in anime format, there would be one of those sweat drops on the back of my head. "I, umm. . ."

The freakishly tall man knelt next to me and started to gather my stuff. "I also didn't see you this morning for, er, breakfast," he rambled, neatly stacking them in his hands. There was a light blush on his cheeks. "I-I thought something was wrong."

Why the fudge was the German so concern about my- Seychelles's -well being? Last I checked, they barely had any interaction in the game. Nonetheless, the series! Why was he getting so worked up?

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, hastily shoving all my belongings into the bag. "I was busy! Well look at the time, I better get going! See ya!"

Germany grabbed my arm. "Wait!" He gently pulled me close and stared at me. There was gloss of desire and love in his eyes. Perfect to the mood, he pressed his lips against mine. It was soft and sweet, like ice cream. I felt my world dramatically tilt as my head begin to uncontrollably spin. So he loves Seychelles.

"_That explains why he cared so much_,"I thought, feeling my face burn up. That was my first kiss. I guessed I was caught in another one of those crack pairings.

Slowly, the man pulled away and smiled down at me. His blue eyes shone with such unfathomable affection, it made my heart jump. I looked up at him with a shine to my (Seychelles's) brown ones. For a moment, we did nothing else but just stare at each other.

Then I fainted.

* * *

**Cycle 1: The Room**

Turkey was back in the Room. Everything from the floor to the ceiling was color this bland white color. It was glossed, making him stare back at his face no matter where he looked.

Besides himself—strangely dressed in a starchy white shirt and slacks—there was the equally white chair he was sitting in and an equally white door. He had given up many visits ago in trying to open it. He was trapped in this void of white.

Like always, a voice from nowhere started to speak. "Welcome back Turkey," it said, coming from nowhere in particular. "Do you like your new partner?"

He shrugged. "She's weird," he said, folding his arms over his chest. During the time he was left waiting, he was able to decide on the exact words he was going to say. This time, he was going to get his answers. "But why would you choose her?" he asked. "She's not necessarily your type."

Turkey could hear the Voice smirked. "I'm just killing two birds with one stone," it said. "Surly you have no problem with that."

"Of course I don't." Although he did not show it, the Turk was grumbling. _"He sacked me with someone incapable,"_ he thought. _"He's making sure I fail."_

A foreboding presence appeared behind him, darkening the atmosphere. He shivered, but stubbornly looked ahead. The glossy white walls reflected a dark, undefined figure behind him. It was the Voice—it decided to materialize again. It leaned in and pressed it's cold cheek to his. Still, Turkey stared ahead. "Don't think such depressing thoughts," it whispered, dancing its breath over his skin. "I want you to have a chance."

The man blinked. "Why would you want that?" he demanded.

"Because, I know you'll lose," the Voice said. "I just want there to be a little competition."

There was a flash and Turkey was laying on the tiled floor of the boy's bathroom. "_Damnit_." He stiffly lifted himself off the ground. How long did the Voice keep him this time? The minute Sherry ran away from him, he found his conscious stuck in the Room. There was no sense of time there—he could have been out for hours.

Turkey hated it. He just needed out of that stupid contract. If that girl didn't get that kiss, he was screwed.

And the Voice knew it.

* * *

**Cycle 1: Monday**

Slowly, I opened my eyes. By the look of it, I was in the school infirmary. The bed I was lying in was lined with stiff white sheets and was rather uncomfortable. Groaning, I sat up and placed a hand on my head. I had the worst headache in the world. It was as if I just spent a ten hour car trip with Larry. Not fun.

"Oh! You're up!" Running from the other side of the room was History Teacher Pangaea, dressed in the stereotypical white nurse outfit. She flounced about, placing a gloved hand on my forehead. "How are you feeling dear?"

"Fine," I mumbled. I gave her an odd look. "Why are you here History Teacher Pangaea?"

She laughed as though I told the greatest Dane Cook joke in the world. God, I love that guy. He is so funny. . . "I'm not History Teacher Pangaea, dear," she chirped, checking a clipboard by my bed. "I am Nurse Pangaea."

I gave her a confused look. "What-"

She rambled on without me. "And it looks as though you are fine so you can leave if you want; just take it easy dear, okay?" I took it as a signal to get out of there. I climbed out of the bed and slung my bag over my shoulder. Nurse Pangaea looked up at me and gave an 'oh' sound. "I nearly forgot!" she babbled. "There were two men who came looking for you!"

I wanted to groan. I had a pretty good feeling I knew who these men who. Like some gossipy teenage girl, she leaned in and whispered, "One of them was really buff and wanted you to see him right after you get out-" That one sounded a lot like Germany. "-The other just cracked up laughing." And that sounded like Sadiq.

"Thanks," I grinned, inching my way towards the door. "I'll keep that in mind . . ."

The woman made an overly exaggerated winking motion. She asked, "Been sneaking around now, haven't we?" Was she implying that I was a slut? Well since I was in Seychelles's body, you could say that she was saying that about the nation, not me.

I had the sudden, puissant urge to glomp her. I was not the only one to think that way about her!

Instead, I smiled and ran as quickly as I could out of there. The second I exited into the hallway, I ran into an awfully familiar green hoodie. Of course, Sadiq was waiting for me outside. The very second he saw me, guess what he did?

He cracked up laughing.

"Shut-up," I growled, feeling sore all over again. "It's your fault."

The Turk wiped a few tears from his eyes and regained his lost breath. "You fainted right after being kissed," he chuckled, looking ready to roar again. "How is that my fault?"

I pointed a finger at him. "You didn't tell me that Sey-" I corrected myself. "I had a boyfriend," I accused. I swore, if he started to laugh again, I was going to bitch slap him to ''Cat-Dog". Remember that show? No one does.

Lucky for him, the laughing stopped and he gave me a serious look. "I thought I told you," he said, digging around in his pockets. He pulled out his golden pocket watch and checked the time. "School ended about ten minutes ago," he stated, completely changing the subject. "That means the only thing you have left to do today is help France and England in the student council room."

A wave of nervousness flooded me. Operation Seduction was about to start. How the hell was I supposed to seduce either of them to the point of actually loving me? I wasn't a freaking Disney princess! I couldn't just go all 'oh, save me sexy man' and have some dude in tights climb up the tower and rape my sleeping lips (I just ruined your childhood, didn't I?).

Sadiq sensed my dread and gave me a pleasant smile. Rather happily, he gave me a small piece of advice: "Don't worry. Just remember: when they say 'hello', do not faint." He roared with laughter again. I slapped him.

Rubbing his cheek, he muttered something about me being a jackass before beckoning me to follow him. As we walked, I stared out the huge windows to the outside courtyard. There, many other nations were gathered, talking and joking like normal people.

They don't even realize that some obsessive fangirl is possessing one of their fellow's body. If they ever did, I could imagine Spain going all 'inquisition' on me. He'll hold up a cross and yell "The power of Christ repels you, demon!" repeatedly until he loses too much oxygen and faints.

"_I now have the sudden urge to see that,"_ I thought. I bet if I publish that on fan fiction or something, it'll be an instant hit. And I could get my own TV Tropes page. Man, how I love TV Tropes-

"Turkey!" Both of us stopped dead in our tracks as someone behind us came jogging up. I sighed. I hoped this person didn't have some sort of secret affair with Seychelles or else I would slit my wrists and let the damn slut die. Hey, maybe if I do that, I would be out of this body for good!

Suicide is now a reasonable answer.

I shrieked when a bullet shot right past my ear. In return, my eardrums shattered painfully, giving me an instant headache. "_Who the hell carries a gun around with them?_" I'll tell you: Switzerland.

That's right, wearing those ridiculous pajama pants was the handsome blond, wielding a shiny machine gun in one hand and a pink slip in another. His green eyes were ablaze as he marched up to us. "Do you know what this is?" he demanded, waving the pink slip in Sadiq's face.

My mentor regarded it nonchalantly and shrugged. "It's a truancy slip," he said. "What else would it be, jackass?"

Switzerland scowled and slammed it onto the ground. "Yes it is. This is the tenth one this month. Principle Pangaea asked me to tell you that if you don't get your attendance back up, you are going to be banned from the school prom. Any questions?"

I raised my hand. Immediately, Sadiq face palmed as the Swiss barked, "What?" He did not look very happy.

I laughed nervously, thinking, "_Shit, maybe this wasn't such a good idea._" He only proceeded to look more pissed. Right, my question. "Why do you care?" I asked. "Aren't you always neutral?" Somewhere in the universe, a fellow fangirl is glorifying me for pointing that out.

The nation looked down at me. "In case you haven't forgotten, this is how I stay neutral," he said (later Sadiq would explain to me that Principle Pangaea allows him to skip all of his classes if he would handle stuff like this for him. Normally, he would have said "hell with that, I do whatever shit I want" but the older brother had to give a good example to Liechtenstein, so he kindly accepted. Later, everyone but himself would realize how fitting the job was).

Switzerland scrutinized me for a second longer before adding, "And you had a tardy today, Seychelles. You keep that up and you'll be joining him, got it?" Crap, scary.

I felt myself shrink back behind Sadiq, who was already taking a step in front of me. "Are you done now, jackass?" he asked irritably. "We both have better things to waste our time on."

"Who says I wanted to be here anyways?" the other sneered. He gave a huff and strutted away, saying something about how much of a jerk the Turk was.

We silently watched him go. If I remembered Turkey's character profile correctly, then he wanted to be friends with Europe. So why was he such obvious enemies with Switzerland? I looked up at him, about to ask him that, when I noticed his eyes.

There was a sad, melancholy shine in them. They looked at the blonds retreating figure, yearning for something I could not place. _"I'll ask him later,"_ I decided as I nudged the hoodie's sleeve.

He looked at me and remembered where he was and who he was with. "That was annoying," he stated, covering up whatever he was feeling. Forcing a grin, he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and guided me further. "Come on, we're late as it is."

I looked behind me, still thinking about the Swiss man. In this strange universe, he was pretty much a bully. A hot one at that, but still a complete jerk face. "You should tell the principle," I said. "Switzerland shouldn't be allowed to do that."

Sadiq released a long sigh. "Principle Pangaea wouldn't care," he said. "She has better things to worry about."

I frowned. "Why is Pangaea also the principle?" I demanded.

I received the most puzzled look on the face of the planet. "What do you mean?"

"Why is Pangaea, our history teacher, also the school nurse and principal?"

For a moment, he didn't say anything. Rather grudgingly, he ordered me not to worry about it. "Just go with the flow," he said. "Half the jackasses here aren't even worth the trouble anyways." I bet that what his therapist tells him (insert winky face).

One staircase and three halls later, we arrived at the door of the student council room. Like all the other doors were, it was a dark wood with a frosted window. I could hear soft voices on the other side, but nothing else. My "FrUK" fangirl imagination told me that they were having a private conversation about their romantic future. . . naked.

I shook my head and ousted the thought. _"No Sherry, they are not a couple here,"_ I scolded. If I could ignore whatever my yaoi needs demanded, then this should be half as challenging. In fact, it would make a lot more sense if they were giving each other the silent treatment.

Sadiq took a few paces away from the door and motioned for me to enter. Strongly, I gripped the knob and gave him a confident smile. _"Just keep your eye on the prize." _I swung the door open and took one step inside. "_What's the worst that could happen?"_

England and France were kissing.

* * *

**MW: **So, what do you all think? You like it?

**SEK: **I like Sadiq.

**MW:** Yes, Sadq. Our glorious cannon main character. I have to admit, I love his and Sherry's bromance.

And for everyone else's information, the Sue family and Bella are going to be mentioned for the rest of the story so don't forget about them. If you need me to explain anything to you, just ask.

**SEK: **You know, I have a feeling this story is going to fail.

**MW:** You said that about HETA and look at what happened with that.

**SEK:** I know, but hey! You might have just jinxed yourself.

**MW:** 0.o You're right. Everyone! Review so that it does not happen! We need this story to succeed! Got it?

**Funfacts**

-"The War of Jerkins' Ear" is a true event. Google it.

-This used to be called "Funfacts and Translations", but there is no foreign languages in this story.

**Next Chapter: **Sherry meet France and England for the first time. Hopefully, she wouldn't faint.

**COMMENTS? CRITISMS? WANT TO HELP WITH OUR MONEY TROUBLES? THEN REVIEW~!**


	2. Introducing Hooker Sherry!

**MW: **Well, this is nice- A quiet, Saturday evening -Just eating my apple sauce as I post the chapter—

**SEK: **WOLF!

**MW: **(And there goes the quiet) Yes darling proof reader dear?

**SEK: **I just heard that you donated the money we got from last chapter's reviews (which is a shit load) to Lolidictator! (Dead serious guys—go look through the reviews of "Lamp Shade" and you'll see **MW **doing that).

**MW: **What? It was a good cause!

**SEK: **So many people were kind enough to review and you just throw the money away?

**MW: **Charity is good.

**SEK: **-_- I'm going to choke you right now. . .

**MW: **0.o Oh dear. Um, thank you everyone for reviewing! For a first chapter, I say that this did extremely well! Please keep it up! I apologize for the boring chapter, but it always takes me three chapters to fully set-up the story. Things will definitely pick up pace at chapter 4.

Anyways, please review so that we get our money back and **SEK **doesn't kill me.

**Chapter Summary: **By entering the wrong room, Sherry somehow manages to make a few enemies.

**Warnings: **Strong Language, Yaoi, Yuri, and Sexual References.

**Disclaimer: **I still do not own Hetalia. Or Seychelles. Or anything else cannon in this.

* * *

**~Chapter 2~**

**Introducing Hooker-Sherry!  
**

_"__The reason truth is stranger than fiction is that truth has a better author.__"_  
**-Stuart Taylor, English Football Player**

* * *

**Cycle 1: Monday**

I stared. The two blonds with their tongues in their mouths stared back at me. This was the very definition of 'awkward moment'. I took one large step back through the door and closed it shut again. For a long moment, I did nothing but stare at the wood door in front of me. "Sadiq!" I turned around and ran back to my mentor. I practically glomped him, knocking his hoodie off and crying into his hair.

"What the hell Sherry!" He screamed, trying to pull me off. After a minute of wrestling, he had me peeled off his back and standing semi-calmly in front of him. He straightened out his clothes (especially the scarf) and glared. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "You should be with France and England right now!"

"The 'UsUK' and 'Franada' fan girls were wrong!" I squealed, hardly able to contain my excitement. "The 'FrUk' is cannon!"

The Turk gave me a blank look. "Cannon?" he repeated. "What the hell does that mean?"

I sighed. "I'll explain it later," I said. "But why didn't you tell me that France and England were boyfriends?"

Sadiq turned me around and started to march me back to the door. "It's common knowledge. They've been together for centuries."

I squealed again, "Really? Naw, that's so _perfect_!" When we were back at the door, I turned around and took my mentor's hands. "You have just made my life," I said. "How can I ever repay you?"

He scowled, yanked his hands away, and opened the door. "By getting that kiss!" He kicked my butt and I fell face first into the room. _"If I do, isn't he supposed to tell me what shea butter is?" _The brunette had the door safely closed again before I could lift myself up.

This time, the two gorgeous lovers were at opposite ends of a large conference table, sorting papers. They barely acknowledged each other, or the fact that both their clothes were ruffled. I couldn't help but to grin widely. So hot. "Good afternoon Seychelles," England greeted, writing something down on a yellow notepad. "How has your day been?"

At first, I just continued my creepy smile until the Brit looked at me with his bright green eyes. You know, in real life, his eyebrows were not _that _thick. In fact, they were on the rather large side of normal (did I just contradict myself?). Either way, I coughed and picked myself off the ground. "I've been fine," I said, trying to cover up a giggle. "How have you been today-" I couldn't help myself. "-Iggy?"

The sandy blond scowled and pressed his lips together. "Don't call me that!" he snapped, practically yelling at me. "Why the bloody hell did you think I would want to be called that?" I shrunk into a corner. Holy shit, Mr. Sexy Brows was freaking scary. It made me wonder how he'll look in his pirate form . . .

An image of his topping a tightly bound France came to my mind. Yummy, I should write a fan fiction on that.

Unaware of my disturbing thoughts, France—looking like the perfect blond Frenchman (no shit, Sherlock) -came to my rescue by casually standing and wrapping his arm around my shaking shoulders. "Ah, England you are too cruel," he said, pressing me close to his warm chest. He thickly smelled of roses- so much that I started coughing. It was worse than Axe. "You scared my poor little girl."

Little girl? Well some people (well, most actually) have Seychelles as France's daughter when she's not dating him. I mentally groaned. Great, that means I either had to go incestuous on myself or seduce England. And let me tell you this: I knew from all the fan fictions I read that seducing a pissed off British gentleman was not easy and very deadly. And besides, incest was not all that bad- I mean, I did try to make Jerry and Larry like that. What kind of a sister would I be to deny myself that simple pleasure?

Somewhere in the world, there is someone complaining over all the wrong things in that last sentence. I regret nothing.

The green eyed man's face softened. "I'm sorry," he sighed, a dejected puppy-dog-look on his face. "I just got a little carried away."

I awed, pushed France aside, and glomped this character as well. "You're so cute~!" I sang as he cursed for me to get off of him. I only squeezed harder. "No wonder France likes you~!"

At that moment, the other man pried me off and sat me on the table like a little girl. He looked a little upset at me, but he had a calm, seductive face to hide it. His hands were clamped on my shoulders as he struggled to find the right words to approach me with. "Are you feeling okay Seychelles?" he asked, his blue eyes meeting mine. "You seem a little-"

England huffed, "A lot."

"-off today." He pressed his warm hand on my forehead. "Are you sick?" he asked. "I heard you fainted earlier while you were kissing Germany." I scowled as the Brit banged the table and roared with laughter. Does everyone have to laugh every time they hear about that?

"_Keep it together Sherry,_" I told myself. "_You are Seychelles right now- she's probably use to all this." _I took a deep breath. "_Ignore everything; act like her."_

Calmly, I brushed his hand away. "I'm fine, er-" I gave France an odd look. "Papa." His face eased in acceptance. Thank God I did that one right. "I'm just having a bad day."

The blonde gave a flick to his wavy hair and smiled. "You should take the day off," he suggested. He slithered over to England and wrapped his arm around his waist. "England and I don't mind having a little alone time," he slurred. He even gave a small wink.

I had to resist the urge to check to see if my nose was bleeding. It was so tempting to agree and go all ninja so that I could secretly watch. But there was that little voice in my head reminding me not to get carried away. "_You have to get that kiss,_" it told me. "_And that would mean breaking them up."_

"_But I don't want them to break up,"_ I whined. My mental image of myself collapsed onto its knees and begged that little voice to let the yaoi live on. "_You just can't do this to me!"_

It sighed. "_Yes I can,"_ it said. There was a pause before it added, _"Pay attention, I think they're trying to tell you something."_

I snapped back to reality and into the middle of England rambling on about the papers we were suppose to sort through. ". . . It's the biggest event of the year and it's happening Thursday," he was saying. "If we screw this one up, those twats are going to burn our names forever. So that's why-"

I raised my hand high in the air. "What the heck are you talking about?" I asked. There was a collective sound of facepalming.

The Brit groaned, marched up to me, and slammed a pile of papers into my lap. "School prom. Thursday. Finishing up last details. Cannot mess up. Sort these by importance. Understand?" He made sure to pause after each word. The message slowly sunk in. Didn't Switzerland mention something about it to Sadiq and me?

I waved it off and took the piles in my hands. "That's easy," I declared, a smug look on my face. I started to flip through the papers. "I bet I can. . ." I trailed off. Each sheet of paper had the smallest print possible. I could place it an inch from my face and it'll still be impossible to read.

"Is something wrong?" England asked. He looked ready to take the papers back.

Faking a smile, I held them out of his reach. "Nothing's wrong!" I said quickly. Too quickly. Laughing nervously, I looked down at my task. "I can handle this!" It took another minute or so to convince him, but once that was achieved; the three of us were sitting at one end of the table. A stiff silence hung in the air; all of us were afraid to talk.

"_So there's a school prom," _I thought, bull-shitting my way through my task. I glanced over the papers and sorted them in a random order. "_I bet that it'll be romantic." _I saw a paper about ordering a batch of deep fried twinkies for food. Ew. That went on the bottom.

I peered up at the two blonds. They basically ignored each other, trying to avoid eye contact. "_They seem like they don't want to be publicly affectionate," _I noted. _"I wonder why- everyone knows that they're a couple. . ." _I silently groaned.

Not that I knew anything about how lovey-dovey couples were supposed to act. Dad was never around whenever the opportunity came. Like this one time back when I was a little kid.

After watching the _Little Mermaid_ for the first time, all I really wanted to do was swim. So my mom signed me up for the city swim league and sent me down my way. I used to love how the water would splash around whenever I swam.

It was my first swim meet ever and I was very excited. Dad had promised that he would be back in town in time to see my race. As I waited for my heat to start, I remembered seeing all of the parents kiss their little girls good luck. Mom did the same, of course, gushing me with how great her daughter was.

"Where's Daddy?" I had asked, strapping my obnoxious pink goggles over my head. Mom merrily continued to kiss me more, saying that I was going to do such a fine job.

The buzzer went off, but I did not jump into the pool. "Not until Daddy comes," I had said, pouting like the little kid I was. They did the race without me and I stood at my spot for a whole hour, waiting for Dad to come.

Eventually, Mom lifted my into her arms and drove me home. She made my favorite meal of ravioli and mint flavored ice cream. Gary Sue's plane had been delayed- he could not come home.

I frowned. _"What did that have to do with anything?"_ I wondered, evening out the completed stack's sides. _"I think I had to point to that, but what was it again?"_

England looked up from his work and smiled. "Are you done Seychelles?" he asked, raising a thick eyebrow. "You can leave if you want."

"Are you sure?" I asked. Try to sound helpful. "I can do something else if you want."

France laughed his signature French laugh. "Oh Seychelles, this is why I love you." My heart beat quicken. He already loved me? Was my job done? The blond reached over and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. He nuzzled my hair and added, "You are the best daughter any man could ask for."

"_Damnit, so close,"_ I thought, pushing his arm away. "Thanks I-" I released a large yawn. Man, I was exhausted. I glanced at the clock. It was six in the evening. Damn, was it that early? I usually stayed up till three in the morning, drawing away on my computer. "I'll get going now," I said, rising from my spot. I slung my bag over my shoulder and waved to both of them, bidding them "good bye".

Right when the door was closed behind me, I heard the Frenchman say, "Now, where were we?" I smiled and pressed my ear to the door. No way was I going to miss-

"Seychelles!" My body froze. Germany was turning the corner. He looked so happy to see me- I mean, Seychelles. Because he was her boyfriend, not mine. Cold sweat drenched my back. Not good, not good, not good.

I fled. My flats clicked on the marble floors as I ran as far away as I could. Of course, he chased after me, calling out Seychelles's name. He was fast, but the legs of Seychelles's body were faster. _"I can never run this fast normally," _I thought, impressed. I went down a flight of stairs and paused. _"Maybe Seychelles is good for one thing-" _Not even a second later, the booms of the German's steps came after me. Shit.

I dashed again, further down the evening halls. The large windows brought in an orange hue from the setting sun. Name called again, I adjusted the bag on my back and ran faster. I had to get away. Sliding, I made a sharp corner and ran through the first door I could find.

I closed it shut and pressed my ear against it. Through my loud panting, I heard Germany run right by me. I sighed and closed my eyes. Slowly, I slid my back down the floor until I was sitting on the floor. Free at last. I could finally- "What the hell are you doing here, straightie?" My eyes flew open and I saw that I was not alone in the room.

The room I had chosen to take refuge in was in fact the science room. It was large and stereotypical with lab tables, fake skeletons, and Bunsen burners. On one of said tables were two beautiful blondes: Belarus and Belgium. They were embracing each other with their tongues in each other's mouths and hands gripping each other's shirts.

Oh. My. God.

Immediately, I flew my hand on my eyes. "Fuck!" I yelled, trying to erase the image from my head. Were Germany and I the only straight people here? Well, she did just call me 'straightie'. But why yuri? I bloody hate yuri! "I'm sorry!" I yelled, climbing to my feet. I turned my back to them and grabbed the doorknob. "I'll leave right-"

Then my world went black.

* * *

**Cycle 1: Tuesday**

"DING-DONG~! DING-DONG-DONG~!" I winced and opened my eyes. Those bells were freaking loud. It was as if they were ringing in my head and not over the sound system. Groaning, I tried to sit up but quickly found that I already was. My back was pressed to a stone column while my hands were duct taped together with it between them.

I blinked and remembered the previous evening's events. _"So Belarus knocked me out and tied me up here." _I looked around me. I was right under a large, brass bell, swaying slightly from the remaining momentum. There were a few others, all in a nice row. Morning light flooded in from open arches supported by stone columns- like the one I was tied to.

I screamed and huddled closer to my support. I was in the clock tower, more than six stories in the air! Why would she tie me up here? I looked around and saw a yellow post-it note on the ground. It read:

_Have fun starving to death_

_-Belarus_

I cursed and hugged my support tighter. Already, my stomach was growling, begging for more food. How much longer did I have? God, was I really going to die here? Tears pricked my eyes and my throat tightened. I didn't want to die yet! There was still so much I had left to do! I have to live! Eventually, I calmed down enough to think rationally about the entire situation.

"_What would Mom do?" _I could imagine her sitting calmly until she saw people in the outside courtyard. Then she'll call for help and pray that they heard. If not, she would charm her way out. I may not have the charm, but I could try to patience.

For three hours, I sat there, waiting for some form of help. When I did see someone in the courtyard, I did try calling for them, but they did not hear me. I even tried calling for the Hero America, but his obliviousness blocked out my voice. Eventually, the bells roared their chime of the noon bell and I gave up.

"_Okay, that didn't work. What about Larry?" _He would chew his arm off like a trapped wolf. Yeah, I was not going to do that.

Groaning, I banged my head against the cool stone. Jerry would cry and I didn't even want to know what Dad would do. God, why didn't I have some magical transportation ability that could zap me out of here? Or why couldn't I be a firebender and just burn the tape away.

Great, now I want to watch an episode of Avatar. . .

Another thought came to me. _"What would Bella do?"_ I could picture my friend miraculously producing a cell phone from mid air. But Seychelles's phone was in her bag which lay a few feet from my foot. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

I scooted closer to the floor and extended my foot as far as I could. The tip of my shoe barely brushed the canvas strap. "Shit." I sat back up again and kicked off my Mary Janes. I bent down as far as I could and ripped my socks off with my foot.

On my second try, I was able to use my toes to grab the strap and pull it towards me. I don't know about you guys, but that was a trick I learned from the _George of the Jungle_ movie. I used to love that when I was a kid. . .

Still using my toes, I unzipped the front pocket and pulled out the phone. It was one of those blue, sliding keyboard ones. Now all I had to do was call the police and get my ass saved. Carefully, I pounded my foot on the 9. The option for speed dial came up. _"Interesting..." _

I pressed the send button and heard the faint dial tone. After a few seconds, an equally soft voice answered it. I couldn't tell who it was, but all I knew was that they were a male. "Help!" I yelled, trying to get my voice into the phone. "Freaking Belarus tied me up in the be-" At the moment, the bells rang, breaking my ear drums and covering my voice.

They sounded for a whole minute. By the time they wore down, I saw that whoever I had called had hanged up on me. I groaned. _"Great. This time, I'll just call the authorities." _I tried to pound my foot on the keys, but instead I nicked the side. The phone skidded away, far from my reach.

I stared at it. Did I just ruin my chance of being saved? I hugged the column tighter, banging my head against it. "FUCK!"

For the longest of time, I just hugged my stony friend and cursed my stupidity. Why was I so pathetic? Even Jerry would have been so much more careful! But no, I had to go screw everything up like usual! "_Why can't I be perfect?" _I wondered, banging my head on the stone. _"My life would be so much better if I was." _

"Seychelles?" I lifted my head and turned to see England peeking his head from the trap door below. The minute I looked at him, he jumped out and ran towards me. "Bloody hell," he cursed, crouching to my aide. "Are you alright?"

He placed a hand on my shoulder. It sent spikes all around my body, making my face turn red. There was so much concern in his voice, as if he really cares for me. "_What if he does,_" I wondered. _'What if he really does care about me?" _

England reached into my bag and pulled out a pair of scissors. "I'm so glad you called me," he rambled, reaching over to the other side of the column. His upper torso was over mid-air whereas his lower was directly in my comfort zone. I could smell the noisome odor of scotch and brandy. "I was in the bathroom, but I hadn't seen you all day and so I had to answer-" He reached over it more, pressing his toned chest into my face. My blush only worsened. "-The minute the bells went off, I knew exactly where you were. And to think that Belarus would do such an unladylike deed- there!"

The duct tape fell from my wrist and I yanked my sore arms away. England climbed away from me and smiled. "There you go Seychelles, all nice and free," he said triumphantly.

I smiled, jumped to my feet, and hugged him tightly. "Thank you!" I cried, feeling tears prick my eyes. "I thought that I was really going to die here!"

I felt him stiffen before gently petting my back. "It's fine now," he whispered. "You're safe." It took a few more minutes to get me to calm down long enough to gather my stuff and leave back through the trapdoor.

There was a long, narrow staircase leading down to the ground levels of the school. It was dimly lit with lights that flickered from overuse. "Be careful now mate," England said, taking my hand. "Don't trip now."

I glanced down at his hand and blushed even more. _"This is stupid,"_ a sane side of me said. _"You should not be getting worked up over every single little thing a gay man does to you!" _ My face hardened as I tried to control my hormones. Unlike Bella and my mom, I was never good around guys.

When I was in middle school, we had to learn classical dances in PE. I was paired with Ed Goodwin, a hot guy I used to have a crush on. Every time he placed his hand on my back, I would blush insanely and lose whatever will I had to speak.

One day, I gained the courage to tell a joke. It was the one about the Irish and Jew in the bar and how neither of them left. Ed didn't think it was funny mostly since he was Jewish and his grandfather died during the Holocaust.

Ooops.

When we reached the ground level, England still did not release my hand. Instead, he determinedly led me down the empty hallway. "Where are we going?" I demanded, tempted to just push him away.

The blonde didn't even glance back at me when he said, "Administration. We're going to report to Principal Pangaea about what Belarus did."

My mouth flew open. "Pangaea's the principle too?" I wanted to bang my face against the nearest hard surface. "Is there anything she doesn't do?"

England paused in front of a door. It was grander than all the rest, a sign reading 'administration' at the top. "I don't know what you mean," he said, opening the door. "Just go with it."

Instantly, I was faced with a stereotypical principal's office. There were those cubical like areas for the secretaries and chairs for students waiting for their turn. The man led me to the nearest desk and tapped a gold bell. The same Pangaea as my history teacher and nurse looked up at us. "Hello England," she chirped, twirling a pen between her stubby fingers. "What can I do for you today?"

He smiled. "Secretary Pangaea, Seychelles and I would like a meeting with Principal Pangaea." Sexy-blond-British-Man-Say-What? You had to schedule a meeting with this seemingly split profession personification?

The blonde pressed her lips together and pounded something into the computer. I winced. Poor keyboard, if she kept that abuse up, she was going to need a new one by the end of the month. But this comes from a girl who had to pound her foot into her phone, so I guess I really wasn't one to judge. "I'm sorry England," she said. "But Principle Pangaea is busy for the rest of the day. If you want, the two of you could fill out a form explaining your problem."

"Yes please, my good lady." He readily accepted a stack of yellow slips. There were lines and boxes to check, meant to help explain the issue. As he easily filled it out, I felt Secretary Pangaea nudge my shoulder.

She beckoned me to lean in and whispered, "If it's about a missed period, you and your boyfriend should go see Nurse Pangaea. She can give you a pregnancy test-"

I loudly pounded my fist on her desk. "He's not my boyfriend!" England shot his gaze up at me, the most perplexed look on his face. Shit. I laughed nervously and tried to repair the situation. "Not that I wouldn't want you to be my boyfriend," I said. "But she was merely suggesting that I had sex with you- not that I wouldn't want to have sex with you either." That totally didn't help.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" He demanded, eyebrows knitting together in frustration. I squeaked and raised my hands up in defense. What, it's an automatic reflex! The nation gave me a crazy look before shaking his head. "Never mind," he muttered. After handing the woman the slip, he once again took my hand and led me out.

Once again, I could not help but to stare at it. Seriously, why was he always doing that? Clearing my throat, I gently pulled my hand away. "Well, thanks for the help," I said. "But I really do need to get going. . ."

England turned to me, looking confused. "Why? School's over and everyone's at the bar."

That sparked my attention. "Bar?" I repeated. "You mean, like alcoholic beverages?"

"That's right." The blond reclaimed my hand and led me further down the halls. "But why are you asking? You act as though you've never been there yourself." Instead of fabricating some lie, I just smiled and allowed myself to be dragged along.

We went down multiple halls until coming upon the door to the basement. I could imagine him knocking discreetly on the door and muttering a password- like those movies during the 1930s with the speak easies. But no, he simply just opened the door and led me down a nicely lit staircase.

A gasp escaped my mouth at the sight. The bar was huge. Shiny chestnut floors stretched from one end to another, reflecting the old fashioned lamps on the walls. Couches, pool tables, and tables scattered everywhere, each used by a group of excited nations. Directly in front of us, at the far wall, was a bar itself.

It was attended by Pangaea (of course) in a traditional bar tending outfit. She cleaned shot glasses as she talked to the patrons sitting at the stools in front of it. Behind her were cabinets with bottles of alcohol from around the world. Jazz music filled the air, giving the whole room a mafia feel.

"This is so cool," I sang, looking around with puppy eyes. "I didn't know that something like this was in the basement!"

England laughed and slapped my back. "Of course you didn't." he said, pushing me towards the bar.

I turned to him and excitedly took his hands. "Am I allowed to have some whiskey?" I asked, jumping up and down like an excited fangirl. Actually, I was a fangirl, so I could get away with that one.

If any of my questions sounded odd to the gentleman, he sure didn't let it show. Like the Santa Clause at the mall, he chuckled, "Of course you can, Seychelles. We all can have whatever drinks we want."

I practically ran to the counter, stealing the nearest open bar stool. "Can I have one whiskey?" I asked, bouncing up and down in my seat. The two nations next to me- Sweden and Iceland -exchanged glances before sliding out of their chairs and moving somewhere else.

"Here ya go lady," Bartender Pangaea said, sliding a tall one towards me. Greedily, I gulped it down in one go. Immediately, I started choking. Since when did alcohol taste so nasty? I may have never had any before, but by the way fanfictioners write about it, I just presumed it tasted half way decent. Not like cow shit.

"Seychelles, are you alright?" England asked, rubbing my back. After a whole minute of my coughing, he resorted to slapping his hand firmly on me. Right when I felt a giant bruise developing there, the coughing ceased and I could breathe normally.

"Thank you," I said, rubbing my neck. God, that bloody hurt. A small smile danced on my lips. "You just keep saving me today."

England blushed and did his best to shrug. "I just did what any proper gentleman would do," he defended. "Nothing special."

For some odd reason, I found myself rubbing my hand along his shirt collar. "_What the hell am I doing?"_ I thought as I gave him a sly smile. It was as if I had no control over my- Seychelles's- body anymore. I started slurring, "No, you really did save me. I really should repay you."

His face turned a deeper red than a ripe tomato. It was so obvious that the blond was panicking, yet his pride was the only thing that kept him from shoving me away. "N-no that's n-not necessary," he stuttered, sweating like a sinner in church. "I-I like p-p-performing charity."

I leaned in and placed my lips right by his ear. "Call this karma then," I whispered, sounding like a hooker (and a damn good one at that). The next thing I knew, I was kissing England right on the lips. Wow, was being in a slut's body making me one myself?

His emerald eyes grew wider and he froze with shock. I, Sherry Sue, dominated the kiss, passionately rubbing my lips against his (man, my inner monologues make nothing sound romantic). He didn't move, not even to push me away. His stunned senses were radiating vividly to everyone nearby.

"What the hell?" Yes, this included France. Slowly, Hooker-Sherry pulled away and gave him a smirk. The blonde's face was mixed with shock and anger. "England . . ." He pointed an accusing finger at the both of us. "What are you doing being straight?"

England jumped to his feet. "I'm not straight!" He yelled back, looking angrier than ever. "That slut-" of course he pointed at me. "-forcibly kissed me!"

"And you went along with it!" The Frenchman bit his lip, folding his arms over his chest, and stomped his foot on the ground. "You know England, I wouldn't mind if you kiss another guy, but a girl!" His blue eyes were full with tears as he smacked his hand over his heart. "Are you telling me all this time that you were just using me?" Oh on, were they fighting?

Snarling, the other snapped, "Why the hell are you acting like the damn damsel here? You've kissed Monaco plenty of times and yet I've never given you a shit about it!"

"Monaco is my daughter-"

"And Seychelles is my ex-colony!" The Brit jabbed a sharp finger into his chest. "I'm so sick of you and your whorish needs. I'm sick of always being put last against your latest prey- whatever the gender may be!"

France swiped his hand away and took a step forward. "And I'm sick of your constant jealousy! Every time I even look at someone, you accuse me of wanting to get into their pants!"

"Because you are!"

The world consisting of England, France, and I grew silent. The rest of the bar continued on with their merry making, unaware of the fight among them. I sat dumbly in my seat, wondering what in the world should I do. The two men stood rock still, breathing heavily, bodies posed for a fight. After what felt like a long time, France eased his stance, saying, "Maybe we shouldn't be together anymore."

Tears gathered in England's eyes. He turned his back to him and crossed his arms. "I was just about to say the exact same thing," he growled. He didn't flinched as his ex-boyfriend stormed away, stomping his legs as he traveled up the stairs and back to the school.

Contrite feelings firmly gripped my heart, causing my lower lip to quiver. I reached out to touch his shoulder, whispering a soft "England." He brushed me away and stood. This time with much more force, I called out his name again. "I'm sorry!" I yelled. The blonde continued to march out of the bar, leaving me feeling like a complete douche bag.

Which I am. Like seriously, who just randomly seduces gay guys?

"Ah, poor gal." I turned to Bartender Pangaea, cleaning a clear glass in her hands. For some reason, she had a thick Brooklyn accent. "Just screwed that one up, didn't ya?" I groaned and banged my head on the counter. I didn't want to talk about it. The woman shrugged and slid a tall glass of beer to me, saying, "Drink ya worries away, honey. It's on the house."

I still didn't lift my head up. "Thanks."

"Oi! Straightie!" I was knocked off of my chair and onto the ground. A sharp pain shot through my head and down my spinal cord. Belarus stood straddle leg over me, looking as bitchy as ever. "What the hell are you doing here?" She demanded. Distantly, I heard someone exclaim 'chick fight'. Bastards.

I pressed my lips into a light line. "None of your business," I snapped back.

The blond only grew more upset. She pulled out a flipping steak knife from under her skirt and raised it high in the air. She brought it down at me. I flinched and closed my eyes shut. It was going to stab me when:

"Get out of here, jackass." A smile grew on my face as I opened them again. Sadiq stood between me and my attacker, holding the knife wielding hand away from me.

There were a few people staring, all wondering what in the world was going on. Belarus flashed her teeth and snarled, "Why so protective of the straightie, Turkey? Last I checked, you played on the right team."

My mentor shrugged and pried the weapon from her. "She looks good in pink," he replied. :And Poland would hate it if someone so pink worthy would die." He threw the knife to the other side of the room and pointed to it. "Go get it and don't come back," he growled. "Or else I'll plant that in your face, got it?"

For a moment, it looked as though she was going to defy him. But instead, Belarus cursed at him again before doing as she was told. Neither of us relaxed until she was gone from sight.

"I don't see you for less than a day and yet you somehow got yourself tangled up with the bitchiest nation at school." Sadiq made one of those 'I'm humored, but I won't say it aloud' faces. For some reason, he wore the same outfit as yesterday. Doesn't he have any clothing variety at all? Then again, this was a uniformed school, so he and everyone else here had to wear the same thing each day. He pulled me to my feet, saying, "What the hell have you been doing?"

We took two seats at the bar and I explained everything that has happened to me. My free glass of beer was safely between my hands waiting to be drank, but after the hooker incident, I was not going to risk it. "So overall, I'm a straight douche bag with slutty tendencies," I concluded, releasing a long sigh. "I can't do anything right."

"Yes you can," Sadiq said. He pulled out his metal canister and took a long swig of his sweet apple juice. "After all, you did break France and England up."

"I didn't want that!" I exclaimed, nearly jumping out of my chair. "Those two are meant for each other! I just can't force them apart."

He took another drink. "Yet, you just did." I groaned and nearly banged my head again. Self-inflicted pain was what I really wanted. Not that I was a cutter of anything, I just needed a little reminder that I was the only sane one here. Sadiq pulled out his golden watch again and checked the time. "Sherry, listen to me," he said, soft enough for only me to hear. "We have to hurry up," he urged. "We're running out of time."

A puzzled look masked my face as I asked, "What do you mean?"

"You have to get that kiss the second midnight hits on Friday," he said.

My heart dropped. Forgetting our secrecy completely, I jumped away and nearly screamed, "Friday? Why Friday?" I counted my fingers. "I have only two days left! Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"I didn't want you to panic." Sadiq gave me a sever look, as if reminding me that he was the senior for this situation. "But obviously, you need a little motivation."

Slowly, I eased my buzzing senses. Two days. I could do two days. Ariel was able to win the prince's heart in three days- one more than what I had. And she was a bloody mute! "_But that is a Disney movie,"_ my realist side scolded. I told it to shut its pie hole. Two days- I could definitely do three days. But . . . Calmly, I asked, "What happens if I don't?"

Sadiq started to get out of his seat. "Just do it by Fri-" He knocked straight into a very hard chest. Grunting, he stumbled back a few steps and looked up at his impasse. "Hi Germany," he greeted. Germany continued to give him a blank and stoic. "I haven't talked to you in a-" My dear mentor was punched right in the face.

I winced as he stumbled into the bar. "What the hell Germany?" I screamed, directing more attention to the fight. I made a move to help the Turk, but Seychelles's boyfriend raised an arm between us.

"Stay away from my girl," the blonde yelled. "If I hear you do anything to her-"

"Don't flatter yourself." Sadiq, to my utter admiration, stood onto his feet, wiping away the blood from his split lip. There was a deadly glint in his amber eyes when he spat, "Neither of you are worth my effort." That hit a nerve.

I watched from my barstool as Germany proceeded to beat the shit out of him. And I just sat there. What could I do? Even in Seychelles's body I would be powerless against a buff German. It got to the point where Bartender Pangaea had to kick them out of the bar and finish it outside.

"_Well that settles that question."_ I thought, gathering my stuff together. _"Germany pwns all. But what about Russia. . ." _I looked at my free beer. It was a little warm now, but I bet that someone would want it anyways. Sitting to my left was a brown head of hair laid on the counter. His fair hands held a halfway empty glass of moonshine. I slid my beer to him, ordering him to take it.

"Vee, grazie." The man sat up and I saw the familiar defiant curl. He looked so sad, tracing his finger over the rim and sighing softly. "_Italy? Why was he getting drunk?" _The eight o'clock bells sung. "_I'll ask him later._"

I hurried on up the stairs to an empty hallway. There were small drops of blood on the marble from the fight, but besides that, mostly empty. The dark outdoors made it necessary for the lights to be on. It gave the whole school a warm, inviting feel to it. Adjusting the bag on my back, I sighed and started to make my way to my dorm.

My heels clicked on the floors, echoing off the walls, making me feel more alone than ever. _"This sucks."_ I paused at a crossway, trying to remember where to go. "_This must be how it feels to be Canada: you're freaking alone all the time!" _I chose right and continued on. "_There's no one I can talking to. The only people Seychelles seemed to hang out with besides her psycho boyfriend is France and England and boy! That sure didn't turn out right!" _

"There's like something that's totally bugging you." I paused. That sounded a lot like Poland. I mean, who else would speak in such a valley girl manner? I stuck myself to the wall and peeked around the corner. He was supporting his boyfriend on the shoulder, helping him inch his way back to his dorm.

Sadiq made a noise that sounded like a combination of a sigh and a groan. "There's nothing wrong," he breathed. "It was just a small disagreement."

"As if! There's like something way sketchy going on right now."

A weak laugh left my mentor's lips as he chuckled, "You always worry about me." I saw him lean over and kiss the blonde's lips softly. My breathing hitched. This scene was so cute- it was as if they were truly meant to be together. "I'll be fine," Sadiq said, as they turned another corner to their own dorms. He was saying something about stress as his voice faded away.

I stayed in my spot, feeling guiltier than ever. I really shouldn't have eavesdropped. That was a private moment only for their eyes. Sherry Sue had no right to witness it. I turned away and started a mad dash to the student council room. "_France and England need to hook up back together,"_ I thought determinedly. I didn't care what happened to me; those men had a perfect relationship and I ruined it. It was my responsibility to fix it. "_But how?" _

I flashed back to the time Dad had missed my swim meet. He came home the next day, exhausted as usual. Dad was a tall, lean man. He always wore stylish, yet casual clothes and circular glasses to help his green eyes see. He skipped kissing mom and marched right past little Jerry and Larry. My ginger father went straight to my room and knocked softly. "Go away!" I had yelled, throwing a stuffed dog at the door.

He invited himself in anyways, smiling softly at me. "I'm sorry Sherry," he said as he took a seat at my bed. I stuck my tongue out at him before burying my head into a pillow. Must not listen to his blasphemy. . . "I know that you don't love me right now, but I'm really sorry that I missed the race. Can you ever forgive me?"

I was a good little girl. There was no way I could stay mad at either one of my parents for long. I sat up and removed my fluffy cover. "I forgive you," I muttered, looking intently at the floor. Even back then, my room was a complete mess. Clothes and toys made a thick layer over the carpet.

Gary Sue grinned and engulfed me in the largest hug known to man. "That's fantastic~!" He squealed, nuzzling the top on my head. "The first step to getting you to love me again is for you to forgive me~!" After that, everything was good with my father again.

That is, until he missed something important. Again.

"_Forgiveness before love." _A wry smile stretched across my face. I guess it was worth a shot. "_I knew Dad was good for one thing." _I traveled further down the halls. The problem was how I was going to be able to do that. The two men weren't even talking to each other.

I was so deep in thought that I walked right into a partially open door. "Ah! I'm sorry!" Estonia exclaimed with a laptop in one hand and the doorknob in another. "I didn't see you there." Well, it was nice to know that someone cares.

I moaned and brushed it aside. "It's alright," I said, rubbing my forehead. I was going to have a bruise there later. "I wasn't paying attention."

The Baltic gained this panicky look on his face. "No, I really am sorry." There was sweat falling off his brow. Something told me years of living with Russia made him this way. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No it's. . ." Then I got an idea! An awful idea! I GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA! (I love copying Dr. Seuss). I smiled at him and inched a little closer. "Actually there is one thing." I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and nudged him along. "Tell me Estonia: what do you know about apologizing?"

That night, I laid in Seychelles's bed, feeling more accomplished than I ever thought possible. I hoped France and England liked their flowers.

* * *

**Cycle 1: Wednesday**

"Seriously, Pangaea is weird," I complained, joining Sadiq at the lunch table. We had trays of exquisite food from around the world. The smells wafted up to our noses, making our mouths water. "She's the secretary, principle, nurse, bartender, history, math and art teacher, and now she's the cafeteria lady? How in the world does she do it?"

Poland, sitting right across from me, gave me a disbelieving look. He and my mentor had been with me through both art and math, listening to me rant on and on about the woman. "You're, like, totally an idiot," he said, idly twirling his hair between his fingers.

"Just let her figure it out for herself," Sadiq growled, taking a large bite of his dolma. For the first time ever, I saw him in his white mask. He was only wearing it since my dear Germany had given him a nasty looking black eye. Remind me later to buy him a cupcake or something in apology. "Why aren't you hanging out with Liechtenstein, Prussia, and Germany?" he asked suddenly. "You guys are _friends _you know." I saw him wink from under his mask.

I took a glance at said people. The small, blond girl was beautiful in real life. She sat timidly with the loud, albino nation, chuckling at his outrageous jokes. Germany sat across from them, glaring at my general direction. "Oh right." I laughed nervously and stood. "I better get going to them," I said. "I'll see you all later."

Poland waved to me."Like later!" I gave the two men one last smile before hurrying over to Seychelles's friends.

Germany's face softened and he pulled up a chair for me. "There you are," he muttered shyly. Okay, dude, make-up your mind. Are you bold enough to fight for your girl or are you too shy to even speak a word to her? Stupid bipolar Germans. "I was wondering where you were." Bull shit!

"I was asking Turkey what I missed in class yesterday," I said, gracefully taking the offered spot. "Since you- you know -beat him to a pulp when I tried yesterday." He frowned at the smug look at my face.

Prussia laughed ever so loudly and banged the table. "The awesome me heard about that!" he yelled. "Bartender Pangaea was so pissed!"

The smaller girl next to him nodded. "You should be more careful," she added softly. Gosh, she was so cute. If I was a lesbian, I would not hesitate to kiss her. She kind of reminded me of my pet cat Berry. He was so fluffy and sweet! Well, at least when he was alive he was. She took a small bite of her sandwich, saying, "It would be terrible if our group of straighties fell apart."

I tried not to let my shock show. Liechtenstein and Prussia were straight as well? Now that I thought about it, the way they seemed to hang off of each other hinted at a pretty romantic relationship. I could not help but to smile.

In the world of Hetalia, there were four different kinds of pairings: Cannon, Fan, Accepted, and Crack.

Cannon is pretty obvious, though there's very little of it. Some examples are 'SunFin', 'AusHun', and 'LitBel'. As you may have noticed, most of them are one-sided and incestuous.

Widely known pairings, like 'FrUk' and 'PruCan' are simply called Fan pairings. Most of these are homosexual or genderbent.

There's, of course, our crack pairings. We've been having quite an adventure with them so I'll just presume you know what they are. If not, get your ass to Urban Dictionary right now and look it up.

Last, but not least, a lesser known category (mostly since I made it up) is used for other fan pairings called Accepted. These are for pairings that aren't cannon, not crack, and not popular. Like 'ItalyXHungary' and 'PrussiaXLiechtenstein'. As my examples show, most of them are heterosexual.

"_Well, it's not 'FrUk', but it can do," _I thought, stabbing a fork at my fried fish. "Well, I wouldn't want to leave my precious Germany either," I said, getting that disgusting flirty tone in my voice. What? I was trying to be Seychelles!

The blonde responded bashfully. He stuttered a compliment in return and met my eyes. His cold hands tilted touched my chin and tilted my face towards his. He started to lean in . . .

"Get your Godforsaken ass over here you munter loving, rose smelling, nancy-git!" I took the opportunity to shove the German away before he could kiss me again. Everyone in the cafeteria watched England as he marched over to France and slammed a bouquet of red roses onto the table. The ex-boyfriend nonchalantly looked up at him, as if he didn't expect any better. "What the bloody hell were you thinking asshole?" England demanded. "I told you to sod off!"

"I could say the same to you," the other huffed, pompously heaving his chest into the air. "Did you not send me a bouquet as well?"

His thick eyebrows raised themselves in shock. "How dare you suggest such a thing!" The Brit snapped. "Why the hell would I send flowers to you, git?"

France flicked his hair and smiled broadly. "I do not know," he said. "But tell me this: why did you give me a card that reads- and I quote - 'I am sorry for everything I said, I still love you'?"

"Bloody hell! You sent me the exact damn thing!"

"Why would I do such a thing?"

"That's what I'm bloody asking you, git!"

That, my dear readers, was all that I saw of the argument. Why? Well, just as France started his next insult, there was a hard tap on my shoulder. Curiously, I turned and saw Switzerland looming over me, a glare in his eyes. A machine gun was strapped over his shoulders, adding to my fear. "Principle Pangaea needs to see you," he said.

Oh yeah, I had a meeting with her.

About Belarus.

Shit.

* * *

**MW: **Well I think I just efficiently raised the stakes there.

**SEK: **Is every chapter going to end with some form of a cliffhanger?

**MW: **Maybe . . . Anyways, you wanna know something? This story is also posted on deviantArt and it's actually doing better there! That's right, this chapter received about 15 comments there compared to the 6 here.

COME ON GUYS! MAN UP AND SHOW THOSE DA PEEPS WHO'S THE FAN FICTION BOSSES!

**SEK:**-_-** MW, **Please do not start a turf war.

**MW: **I'll do what I want. Like make you guys review! So REVIEW!

**Funfacts**

-"Bella Moon" I forgot to mention this last chapter, but Bella is named after two people: Bella Swan from Twilight (the prime example of a Mary-Sue) and my dear friend **MoonSparrow **(because she's awesome)

-"You have to get that kiss by Friday" Basically, the minute midnight strikes on Thrusday (thus, making it Friday), time's up. I don't know whether I made that clear or not.

-"Then I got an idea! An awful idea! I GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA! (I love copying Dr. Seuss)" That's from "How the Grinch Stole Christmas".

-"Dolma" Some Turkish food. I don't know what it is—**SEK **just selected it.

-"Munter loving, rose smelling, nancy-git!" British slang. "Munter" means an ugly woman and "nancy-boy" means a womanly man.

**Next Chapter: **After some more Belarus action, the prom comes along.

*****LET'S DEFEAT THE DEVIANT-ARTERS BY REVIEWING MORE THAN THEM! YEAH~!*****


	3. Sherry's Deep in the Closet

**MW: ***Throws confetti everywhere*

**SEK: **Hey, what are you celebrating?

**MW: **The fact that we're only three chapters in, yet we're nearly at 20 reviews.

**BFTL: **Really, people like this story that much?

**SEK: **Apparently. I mean, this story has less chapters than Korra, yet more love shapes.

**BFTL: **I see what you did there.

**MW: **Please don't make Avatar references in my ANs.

Remember to review~!

**Chapter Summary: **After a terrifying ordeal, Sherry goes to the prom

**Warnings: **Language, Yaoi, Yuri, Sexual References

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia or Avatar.

* * *

**~Chapter 3~**

**Sherry's Deep in the Closet**

"_Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night.'" _

_**-Charles Schulz, American Cartoonist**_

* * *

**Cycle 1: Wednesday**

I sat uncomfortably in my silly orange plastic chair. _"It's as if they think we're immature kids,"_ I thought, sulking darkly. Seriously, who would force a bunch of personified countries to sit in kid's seat? The answer: Principle Pangaea

The woman sat behind her large wooden desk in front of me. She bit her fat lips as she read over Seychelles's permanent record. To my left was Belarus, wallowing in her anger as she glared at me. Or, at least, the motivational poster- the unfunny kind -right by my head.

Nervously, I tapped my foot in a hurried rhythm. Did the woman even believe my story? I knew that if I was in her place, I wouldn't believe that a homosexual girl tied a straight one to the column of the bell tower, which is apparently off limits to students. Then again, I come from a world of normality. This was freaking Hetalia- anything was possible.

"Miss Belarus?" My attention was snapped back to place. The tanned lady adjusted her glasses as she asked, "Is what Miss Seychelles said is true?"

The nation scowled and continued to glare at me. "No," she growled. I sat on my hands, insuring that I did not slap her. "She lies." Bitch, I hate you so much. I wish you can go to a lonely corner and just die! Die and rot in hell! Hahahahahaha!

Ahem, sorry.

Calmly, Pangaea smoothed the papers on her desk. "Well I don't know what to think," she said, placing her chin on her hands. I got a full view of her flabby arms. Ugh, gross. Please don't tell me that my arms (not Seychelles, but MINE) don't look like that. "Miss Belarus, you have a history of violence, but not towards females. Miss Seychelles, you have tendency of lying to your teachers. So-"

I slammed my hands onto the desk, loudly exclaiming, "I do?" Whoa, so Seychelles is not as innocent as she appears. Score one for me; Zero for her supporters.

She gave me a puzzled look that read 'you've got to be kidding me'. "Yes," She said, straightening the papers further. "Or have you forgotten?" Oops. Sadiq was going to kill me for that.

I faked a cough and sat back down. Come on Sherry, you can do better than this! Mulan was able to fake being a guy back in medieval China. If she can do that, then why can't I? My sensible side pointed out, "_She is a Disney character, she can do anything as long as she can sing and learn a life lesson in the process._"

Alright, fine. How about Haruhi from Ouran? She basically did the same thing except instead of killing a scary dude, she flirted with a bunch of dead sexy men. If she could pull off being temporarily a lesbian, then I could manage this. _"Haruhi's an anime character._"

Hey, I am trying to give myself an encouraging speech! Just shut-up, Mr. Reality and let me wallow in comforting thoughts. "_Bitch." _I know.

Instead of dwelling more on the matter (like, why did I just get into an argument with myself?), I tuned back into the situation at hand. ". . . So you two just play nice with each other and we shouldn't have a problem," Principle Pangaea was saying, firmly smiling at us. "Deal?" Her blue eyes were hard with discipline.

Belarus and I shared a thought and chorused an agreement. Neither one of us wanted to be stuck in her office again. "You are dismissed," the blond declared. "Send the next group in."

Swiftly, I scooted out of that bloody stupid chair and hurried to the door. The moment I opened it, I found France and England sitting at the nearby waiting area lobby place (seriously, what do you call it?). They sat across from each other, exchanging challenging glares. Well, this was awkward. I cleared my throat, earning both of their attentions. "Pangaea will see you now," I muttered, fully aware of the glares they were now giving me. What was up with everyone and glaring at me today?

"Thank you," England growled as he stood. He marched right past me and into the room, giving me the cold shoulder. Ouch. Seychelles's father followed after him, except he paused to smile and ruffled my hair.

It felt almost lonely to be without France. I lingered in my spot, reminiscing the feeling. How often had my own father ran his rough hand through my hair? When was the last time I saw him? A little over a month ago, maybe—

Suddenly, I was pushed to the ground. The door to the principal's office closed firmly shut and I was stuck alone in the administrator's office with Belarus. She loomed over me, a dark aura surrounding her. "Listen here straightie: I'm not finished with you yet," she snarled savagely. Her porcelain hand slipped to her stocking where she pulled out a hidden knife. "I'm so going to-"

_With courage and discipline we have broken all barriers. With the tiller in our hands, we will always remain brothers~_

We both paused. It was a chorus of many men, singing in a soft, but prideful voice. Once I realized that my attacker was staring at my pocket did it occur to me that the song was coming from Seychelles's phone. "_Is that her national anthem or something?" _I wondered as I slowly drew the device from my pocket.

Belarus quickly took the phone from my and read the message. "Damnit," she swore. Immediately, she dropped the device onto my lap and flicked her dagger away. She started to walk out, growling, "You're lucky this time, but just wait: I'll skin you alive." The door to the hall was slammed shut.

That left me wondering I what in the world had just happened. Stupid anime characters; couldn't they decided whether they wanted to kill me or not? Talk about being indecisive. However, all was made clear when I glanced at Seychelles's cell. There was a text from Sadiq, demanding that I meet him on the west end of the third floor (wherever the hell that was).

"_Didn't he threaten her into not hurting me?" _I wondered, picking myself off the ground. Surprisingly, that actually explained a lot. He was, after all, once a freaking empire. I don't think he would hesitate to harm a psychotic bitch. My school bag safely slung over my shoulder, I left the administrator's office.

Even from the hallway, I was able to hear Principle Pangaea yelling at the school's president and V.P. to "man-up and stop being a bunch of hormone driven idiots." That was real swell, especially hearing it from the lady that forced her victims to sit in silly plastic chairs.

The loud, tolling bells echoed, singling the end of a school day. Students flooded into the hallway in swarms, talking and laughing earnestly. I squeezed my way past them, reminding myself to keep my hands off their butts.

My only exception was- once again -Spain's. What? It's DAT ASS!

Five minutes into my odyssey, I realized that I still had no idea where I was going. First I asked Austria for help. He sent me down a hall and to a dead end (Reminder: never ask an Austrian for directions). Then I found Lichtenstein and asked her where to go. My body's owner's best friend smiled and pointed me down the right path.

Six halls, two staircases, and another eight hallways later; I finally found Sadiq. Still hiding from beneath his white mask, there was a blank look on his face as he observed the face of his golden watch. I stood a few yards away, hoping he didn't notice me just yet. I wanted to know what in the world he was doing.

Glinting with unidentified emotions, his honey eyes closed. My mentor sighed, tucked his watch away and called out, "Get over here Sherry." Great, we were alone and he was obviously pissed at me. I was screwed. Hesitantly, I dragged my feet to him, dreading the scolding he had in store for me.

When I finally reached him, Sadiq gave me a parent-like disappointed look. "Take off your back pack and look out the window," he ordered.

I started to take my bag off, but paused. "Why-"

"Now." There was that final tone in his voice. My bag dropped to the ground and I turned to the window. I felt like a mere private against a supreme general. He had a control over me I could not deny. The hairs at the back of my neck pricked as I felt him circle me. I did my best to comfort myself; just gazing out to the school grounds. Like the day before, it was filled with nations, all laughing and joking.

It mocked me.

Sadiq made his move. Strongly, he took the back of my shirt collar in his hand. The free one went to opening the window in front of me. I realized too late what he was going to do. He lifted- freaking lifted -me high off the ground and held me out the window.

I screamed bloody murder. My mentor was the only thing keeping me from falling three stories into a group of rose bushes. "What are you doing?" I yelled, kicking my legs wildly. Maybe- if I was loud enough -someone will look up and come to my rescue.

"What am I doing?" The Turk threw his head back and laughed cruelly. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "Sending them flowers? Are you trying to fuck everything up?"

I fiercely shook my head. "No! Put me down!" He only held me higher in the air.

"Then why the hell are you trying to hook them back together?" I didn't say a word, only continued to stare at the ground below me. It was so high up, everyone below were like little ants. Sadiq spat and jerked me up and down. "Answer me, dammit!" That scared me enough.

Hot tears spilled from my eyes as I screamed, "I felt bad! There were perfectly happy until I came along-"

He jerked me again, making my stomach lunge to my chest. "So you're just going to risk everything? Hmm?"

"Would you like it if I did that to you and Poland?" That did it. Sadiq pulled my inside and roughly threw me against the wall. I yelped (great, bruises on my back) and slid to the floor. I tried, but failed to soften the thick sobs leaving my mouth. I was so scared.

He looked down at me, his face slowly loosening. Both of us were silent were a few minutes, each trying to quell our raging emotions. At last, the man crouched to my level and placed a large hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered, sounding like he actually meant it. "I got a little carried away." That was the biggest understatement in history.

I shoved his hand away. "You fucking scared me," I hissed, feeling my sobs disappear. This time, I was the one do the glaring. "Why the hell did you do that?"

I watched as he struggled with an answer. At last, he simply shook his head. "I don't know," he resorted, growing defensive. "I wasn't thinking."

Me: "So you decided to hang me out a window?"

"Would you like me to do it again?" Damnit, I hate him so much. I'm probably going to be scared of heights for the rest of my life. Carefully, he stood and pulled me to my feet. "I'm sorry," he said again, a small sigh in his voice. "Let's just figure our next move."

Bitch please, I already have a plan. "One step ahead of you, Sadiq."

* * *

I stood in front of the student council room. The door was wide open, revealing a hard working England. He sorted through a large stack of papers, unaware of my presence. I stood there, taking long breaths. I was so freaking anxious. I never really had to apologize about something this serious to anybody before.

There was that one time with Bella, but that was a completely different story.

I looked down the hall to where Sadiq was waiting. He was expressionless, just staring at me. In a strange turning of the tables, he smirked and gave me a confident thumb up. Hesitantly, I followed suit.

I wished I had the same tenacity he did.

Delicately, I knocked on the door frame and took a step forward. England looked up from his work and nodded to me. "Hello Seychelles," he greeted pleasantly, taking a sip of his tea. "You didn't have to come in today." Obviously he wasn't pissed at me anymore.

Awkwardly, I joined him at the table and took a seat next to him. "I know," I said, trying (and failing) to seem casual. "But there was something I needed to talk to you about."

He danced an eyebrow as he gently placed the papers down. "Talk to me?" he repeated, trying to not act surprised. "What in God's name could it be about?"

By now, I was twiddling with thumbs. It reminded me of that scene from Alice in Wonderland: the Queen of Hearts yelling at the title character to stop being so improper. And then she tried to cut her head off. Great kid's movie, eh?

"I wanted to apologize," I said. His handsome face loosened as I added, "For- you know -kissing and you stuff." I could feel my face burning to the same red as my hair. I probably looked like a pathetic flame of misery. I was about to rub my hand through my hair when I noticed my black skin. "_That's right, I'm not in my body anymore," _I thought grimly.

I retract my previous simile and would like to replace it with 'I probably look like a chocolate covered strawberry right now.' Yeah, that works.

England reached his hand forward and met his with mine. "Its fine," he comforted. "That relationship was going nowhere anyways." My face only grew redder.

"Oh. . ." I was left speechless. There I was, trying to apologize, and yet he was screwing me up by acting as though it was okay. With even more awkwardness, I rose and started to leave. "Well, I just wanted to tell you that. I think that I'll be-"

"Wait!" I paused and turned back to him. The Brit had actually risen from his seat and stretched his arm towards me. It reminded me of those cliché moments in dramatic romance movies. As I wondered what the heck he was doing, he shyly looked away. "D-do you have a date for tomorrow?" he asked, forcing the words from his mouth. I returned back to my chocolate covered strawberry form. "Y-you know, for the pr-rom?"

I stared at him, shaking. Butterflies banged against the walls of my stomach. Was I really being asked out on a date? The last time that ever happened to me was in 7th grade for one of the school dances. That one ended badly- I accidentally broke his nose. The status gingers own for having 'no souls' was proven to my peers that day, but that was besides the point.

England did his best to smile, but he managed a grimaced at most. Carefully, he suggested, "Why don't we go together- as friends, I mean." Well there goes my love life, but close enough for me!

Zealously, I ran up to him and gave him the biggest bear hug of his life. "Of course!" I squealed, pulling him closer. His body felt cold under my grasp; he must have been really nervous. In the heat of the moment, I found myself kissing his cheek.

No, it wasn't the return of Hooker-Sherry. I was just delirious from happiness.

Yeah, I'm going to go with that.

Delirious or not, I found myself embarrassed again. Quickly I shouted out an apology grabbed my bag and sprinted out to the hall.

Life was good today.

* * *

**Cycle 1: Thursday**

_Knock~! Knock~!_

"Coming!" Efficiently, I wrapped my damp hair in a towel and went to the door not three seconds later. When you were the eldest girl among two brothers, you learned to get ready at a moment's notice—especially when you're in the bathroom. Believe it or not, guys spend way more time in the bathroom getting ready than girls do. What do Larry and Jerry do in there? Try on my mascara?

Anyways, Liechtenstein was standing on the other side, smiling innocently at me. For some reason, there was a dress bag slung over her shoulder. I swear, if I ever found myself a lesbian, I would totally date her.

"Good afternoon Seychelles," She greeted, giving me a small curtsy. "I was wondering if you and I could get ready for the prom together," she asked, her cheeks tinted to a soft pink. Timidly, she held up a small pink box. "I brought my own makeup and everything."

I wanted to turn into a dog and tilt my head in confusion. It was only six- there was still three hours until the actual event, I didn't need to get ready yet. Sure, Sadiq had dropped by earlier to give me a small amount of encouragement, but it had been nothing important. For the most part, he just threatened to hold me out a window and never tell me what shea butter is. Bastard.

I focused my attention back on the girl. _"Sherry, you've never been to a prom before," _I told myself. _"What would you know?" _In the deep corners of my mind, I remembered reading books where the love interest would spend hours doing her hair and makeup. Wow, I guess literature actually taught me something for once. Still, I found myself questioning her. "Why? Wouldn't you rather do it yourself?"

The blonde shook her cute little head. "Its fine," she whispered, sounding a little down. "I figured that since we were friends. . ." She started to sulk away.

"_Shit!" _I stepped out into the hallway, calling out her name. "Wait!" Liechtenstein looked back at me, her blue eyes larger than Kanye West's ego. This time, I was the shy one, kicking my shoe on my ugly navy blue carpet. "I want to do my make-up with you too." Her face immediately brightened and she joined my inside Seychelles's dorm.

That ended up being the best decision of that day.

Liechtenstein and I had a joyous time. We plugged in the curling irons and giggled about the boys in our classes. She did a surprising amount of talking, sharing with me the latest break-ups and make-ups. Dusting our cheeks with red powder, I couldn't help but to think back to Bella.

Bella and I never did such . . . girly things. Often times - especially right after it rained - we would take her prized soccer ball and we'll kick it around her giant backyard. Both of us agreed that with the slippery mud, it was way more epic. Even me, the anti-sports-girl, looked forward to those days. I never defeated Bella in our games, but she still went easy on me.

As the time of the prom's start drew nearer, I found myself missing the girl. As much as a prick she can be, Bel always was nice to be around. I watched Liechtenstein as she pulled our dresses out from their bags. Then again, Lili's nice too.

As expected, Seychelles had a marvelous taste in fashion. The dress she had chosen was a sky blue, littered with matching blue stones. It had no sleeves, revealing my black, toned arms for the world to see. The back was cut low- so low that anyone could see my tramp stamp if I had one. Which luckily, I didn't.

I mean, if I were to get a tattoo, it would be of a grape. Yes, just a simple grape. That way, when I grow old it'll be a raisin! Ha, ha. Yeah, I got that from the internet, deal with it.

"Wow. . ." I breathed, turning around in front of the floor mirror. The long skirt flew out around me in a blue circle. I felt beautiful. A scowl temporarily painted my face when I saw the bruises Sadiq had given me. But I ignored it and concentrated on the dress. I felt as though I could do anything in the world. Like get that stupid kiss. Eagerly, I turned to my friend. "Liechtenstein, look at-" My voice fell dead.

The girl was zipping on her dress. It was also blue, but it had alternating layers of white and blue ruffles, ending with giant blue ribbons. Her short sleeves puffed out and her heart was decorated with little red roses. She still wore her signature ribbon and knee high brown boots. The dress- not coming down past her knees -was extremely lolita and cheesy.

But it looked extremely gorgeous on her.

"You're so cute!" I squealed, giving her a large hug. Immediately, I stopped. I didn't want to accidentally ruin the thing!

She smiled, playing with the ends of her hair. "Thank you." Suddenly, she tilted her head and scrutinized me in the most adorable way. "But there's something missing . . . hold on." She forced me to sit as she redid my hair.

After what felt like forever, I was allowed to look. My locks of black hair were pulled into Seychelles's signature pig tails, tied off with bright red ribbons. The only difference though was the fact that the ends of my hair were gently curled. I stared in awe. "This is beautiful," I gasped, resisting the urge to touch it. Why couldn't I be this beautiful in my normal body? "Liechtenstein, how can I ever-"

There was a loud knock on the door. "Lili! Are you in there?" An overly obnoxious voice- Prussia -yelled. "Prom's starting in five!" My eyes shot to the window. It was already night. Since when did time move so fast?

Quickly, I opened the door and the albino stood there, grinning. He wore a very loose black suit over an orange under shirt. With no regard to me, he pushed me away and wrapped his arms around his girl. "Dude! You look awesome!" he yelled, crushing her small stature between his arms. Instead of getting mad (like what I would have done), she smiled and complimented him as well.

"_How does she stand him?" _I wondered, staring at the odd scene. I could suddenly see why this pairing isn't very popular. . .

"Seychelles?" I turned and standing in the hallway was Germany. He was dressed similarly, except his dress shirt was green, not orange. He did his best to smile for me, but his constipated emotions prevented him from achieving the full effect. Before I could do anything, he took a step forward and lightly kissed my cheek. "You look beautiful," he said.

And that was when it occurred to me: Seychelles was already going to the prom with her boyfriend . . . and England was also my date. _"Sherry, you have screwed up so many times before and yet this is probably the biggest one so far." _Goddamnit! Did I always have to mess everything up? Now I was never going to get that fucking kiss!

Maybe if I pulled the plug on this date at that very moment, I could scrap my way out of this. "Um . . . Germany . . ."

Prussia returned to us, his girl at his side. "The awesome me declares that we should get our butts going!" He yelled, pushing past us. "It's already nine!" Before I could do anything else, I was being led to the ball room. I tried multiple times after that to gain the German's attention, but his older brother's extremely noisome voice covered my own.

I used to love Prussia's character, but now I'm just starting to hate him.

The prom was being held at the school's ballroom. It was located on the ground floor at the far end of the school. To describe it simply, IT WAS FREAKING HUGE! To describe it in a more civilized manner, the marble floors gleamed with hanging lights strung across the ceiling. There were tables with food from around the world set up along with dining tables and a large dance floor. Over the DJ stand was a large clock face, reading the time. It reminded me of my midnight time limit. Nations were clumped together with room to spare, since- you know -this place was FREAKING HUGE!

Ahem.

I felt my breath escape me. It was like the castle from Cinderella, grand in all of its heights and colors. Standing by the entrance, waiting for me, was (how could I forget?) England. He was fancily dressed in a damn hot way. You could throw ice in him and it would melt (not because of his humanly body heat, but because he was hot. You know, like a stove? Shut-up, I was trying for some figurative speech, damnit!).

Panic flushed over me. I needed to get out of there and fast! "Let me hang up your coat," I said, ripping Germany's jacket off , which was—by the way -freaking huge (Was he really that buff?). I think I heard one of the seams tear, but I ignored it.

He gave me a perplexed look. "Seychelles, what are you do-"

I smiled nervous and ran off to the coat closet, leaving him in the dust. I glanced behind a few times, but he never followed me. Thank God, I didn't want to have to outrun him again. "Hola Seychelles!" Spain, master of the coat closet, called out. What in the world did he do in order to get sacked with this job? He smiled brightly, saying, "Hand me your coat please."

I shook my head frantically. "No that's alright." An ingenious idea came to mind. "Actually, England sent me over here to take over the job for you," I lied. "So you can run off to your boyfriend-"

The man wrapped me in a bear hug, nuzzling the top of my head. "Thank you~!" He cried before frolicking away. He was still going on about the love of his life (I think he said Japan) long after he was out of earshot. Great, another crack pairing.

I let a sigh of relief leave my mouth. Now I was alone. There was no possible way I could mess this next one- "Hey! Straightie!" Oh shit! My eyes shot down the hall to where Belarus was, in her black prom dress, stalking towards me. There was no trace of mercy on her face.

This night just kept on getting worse and worse. _"Calm down; maybe she just wants to talk." _The nation threw a dagger at my face. It cut along my cheek before embedding itself into the wall. I yelped and grasped the injured area. Fuck, that hurt! _"I guess not." _

Like an action hero evading the bad guys, I epically ran into the coat closet and slammed the door behind me. I was met with a wall of coats- some made of fur, others of leather. Feeling as though I might get lost in them, I placed myself closer to the door. The doorknob was covered by my cold hands and I stood there, shaking in fear.

I held it in place as Belarus did her best to open it herself. After a few minutes of cursing every swear known to man at me, I heard the screech of her nails against the wood. Great, now she was trying to claw her way through. _"She's not going to get in here," _I thought, trying to quell my fears. "_She's not going to get in here. She's not going to get-"_

Her hand shot through the wood, barely missing my face. I screamed and ducked. _"She's going to get in here." _ I was pretty much dead. Splintered wood rained down on me. If I had a match, I could light them on fire. That way, I would be 'setting fire to the rain'. Get it?

Yeah, not the best time for a joke. . .

Whimpering, I prayed to the gods of this anime universe to please let some miracle allow me to live. _"I'll give you anything you want," _I prayed, covering my neck as she punched another hole. _"Take my arm; take my leg- take Larry's leg! Just don't let her get me!"_

"Belarus!" My head shot up at the voice. Said nation paused and slowly drew her arm back through the fist size hole (she only made two). The voice was unfamiliar, yet it was mellifluous beatific.

"Go away Belgium!" She cursed. Oh, it was just her girlfriend. "I have business to finish!"

The anime gods answered my prayers, since the Flemish nation sighed. "But our song is playing." There was a slight plead in her voice. "Can you finish this later and dance with me? Please?"

I held my breath as the blond considered her options. Please say 'yes'! Dear Vic Mignogna, please say yes! "Fine," she unhappily grumbled. "Let's go." There was no greater sound than their heels clicking away from me.

Happiness swelled in my chest. Carefully, I stood straight and brushed the loose wood off of me. I was going to live! I still had a chance! As long as I didn't ruin the dress . . .

It was locked. Desperately, I wildly shook the handle, begging it to open. The Goddamn door was locked. "No," I whispered, shoving my shoulder into it. It still didn't budge. "No, no, no, no, no!" Defeated, I banged my forehead against it. Well, the universe sure wasn't working with me today.

Trying not to lose hope, I tried to fit my arm through the holes and open it from the outside. The knob was too far away from both of the them. I screamed for help for a few minutes, but it became evident that the noise from the party was too loud (something told me that America was the DJ since all of the songs were either mainstream or rap). So I just ended up sitting on the closet floor, waiting for my attacker to return.

I wonder what would happen if I found Narnia on the other side of the coats. . .

* * *

"Seychelles?" Slowly, I opened my eyes. Someone was shaking me. I was lying over the splinters on the closet floor. "Are you awake?" It took me a second to realize that Estonia was the one who found me. The door was wide open and the splinters were spreading all over the hallway floor. The man looked over me with a worried, yet confused look.

Carefully, I lifted myself up. There was a dull ache in my spine and neck. "I'm fine," I muttered, feeling a small headache start. My dress was wrinkled and dusted with dirt. Add the fact that there were a few splinters stuck in my arm and you had all the ingredients for a perfect mess. Just mess up the hair a little more and blend for thirty minutes straight. "What time is it?" I asked. The music had calmed down to all of the slow dances and it seemed a lot darker in the halls.

Estonia pulled out his iPhone and checked the front screen. "Eleven-thirty," he said. "Why? How long were you in there?"

It was already nearly midnight? Shit! I had less than an hour to get that Goddamn kiss! My feet found themselves safely standing on the floor and I was running back to the prom. I heard the Baltic yell something to me, but I ignored him. This was way more important.

I took a step inside the ballroom and was automatically met with a very toned chest. "Seychelles!" Sadiq yelped, looking down at me. Already, he was extremely crossed with me. "Where have you been?" he demanded, towering over me in his loose black suit and pink tie. "Germany has been asking everyone where you have been- even me!"

"Long story," I said, frantically trying to push him aside. "Now excuse me while I go get that stupid kiss!"

He gave me an annoyed look as I finally ducked between his legs and ran off. "You aren't going to get it!" He called after me. There was a defeated tone in his voice. "You barely have thirty minutes left!" His words made me lose some of my hope. Maybe I really wouldn't be able to do this. It made me wonder: what will happen if I don't?

"_You can do this," _I told myself, making my way across the dance floor. I was almost there. _"Where the hell is England?"_ At last, I spotted him leaning against one of the walls, looking cool and bored. Hastily, I made my way to him, cutting my through the thick cloud of partying nations.

I called out his name, stealing his full attention. "Where have you been Seychelles?" He asked, rushing to my side. "Everyone's been looking for you." Even in the dull lighting, I could still clearly see his green eyes take a quickly look over my body. "What happened? You look like a mess."

"Nothing happened," I said, taking his hand and pulling him onto the dance floor. He winced. Guess I pulled a little too hard. "I'm just starting a new fashion statement- Do you want to dance?"

The blond knitted his eyebrows together. "Um, whatever you wish Seychelles." Even though he was already placing his hand on my waist, I could tell that he was uncomfortable in this position. He was probably wondering what blunt object made contact with my head.

For awhile, he just swayed with the music. He tried to get me to spin, but even in Seychelles's body, I had two left feet. I think I may have even broken one of his toes. Oops. America did something right for once and switched the song over to something that sounded like Lady Antebellum. I didn't know the name since I didn't listen to them. However, I did know that was slow and romantic. The moment suddenly felt right. It would be a sin if I didn't reach up and kiss him.

"England?" I did that cute head tilt that guys just seemed to like. I hoped that the odd lighting in the room would cause my brown eyes to sparkle. He looked down at me, staring straight into my soul. "I-"

"Hello Seychelles, England." We paused and the man's hand left mine. France stood to our side, smiling slyly and attractively. His suit coat and shirt were unbuttoned, revealing his unshaved (yet hot) chest. I could feel the Brit stiffen and glare. "Can I talk to you both?" he asked.

I nodded. "Sure just-" I glanced around me. Germany was still stalking the crowds, looking for his girlfriend. Meanwhile, the clock on the wall read five minutes to midnight (Ha, I love that song.). "-make it quick."

The Frenchman nodded, looking solemn and serious for once. "I apologize for my selfish actions," he said, trying to meet his ex-boyfriend's eyes. England continues to study the ground, "I shouldn't have said any of those things. I was just being . . . reactive. Could both of you forgive me?"

I didn't know what he did against me, but he seemed legitimately regretful. It would have been a crime for me not to forgiven him. "Of course I do," I said. Slowly, I turned my head towards England. "And you . . ."

With less than three minutes left on the clock, he looked up with teary eyes. "I have something to confess to too," He said, doing his best to sound strong. He was such a tsundere. "I still love you France and I . . ." He gulped and gathered his courage. "I was trying to use your daughter in order to make you jealous!" A few people in the vicinity overheard us and gave us odd glances, trying to decipher what any of that meant.

Meanwhile, my jaw had dropped to the floor. Great, even in aleternate universes I couldn't get a boyfriend. Numb with shock, I started to say, "You-"

England grabbed my hand and looked at me with pleading eyes. "I'm sorry. I was thinking irrationally. I still loved him but I didn't think that he loved me in return, so I-"

There clock read one more minute. I knew one thing for sure: I wasn't going to get that kiss. The 'FrUk' was still living. If anyone was going to kiss, it was going to be them. "It's fine," I said quickly. With little resistance, I took their arms and shoved them together. "Just shut-up and start kissing."

They both gave me odd looks, wondering what had gotten into their little colony. Then, France gently took the other's chin, pointed his face to his, and started kissing him. It stared soft- like a kitten's touch before growing in strength and passion. A content sigh left my mouth. If something bad was going to happen to me, at least I was going to be a happy fangirl.

To my luck, something bad did happen.

"Straightie!" Just as I turned around, a knife went straight through my back. Its searing pain traveled through my body for a split second, making me cry out. The sick numbness of mortal injury had consumed my body before I hit the floor.

In the distance, I heard England and France cry out before crouching down next to me. I felt one of them pull the weapon out of my back while the other yelled for help. Somewhere in the mix, I could make out Germany's screaming and my attacker's chortling.

But most distinctly, there was the tolling of the midnight bells . . .

* * *

**Cycle 1: The Void**

I blinked. I was no longer laying on the ground of the ballroom. Instead, I was standing up straight. The floor, ceiling, and walls (if there were any) were a solid black color. It was not from lack of light- I could still see myself perfectly.

I was dressed in my long puppy pajama pants and a white tank top- my PJs. What in the world happened to my dress? As strange as that was, there was also something else that was off. It took me a few minutes to realize that my hands were not black, but white. _"Could it be. . ." _I reached up and took a fistful of my hair. Already, I could tell that it was dry and knotted. Holding the ends in front of my face, I saw its nostalgic orange hue.

"_I'm in my own body!" _The kind of joy you only feel at Christmas filled me to the brim. I obviously wasn't home, but at least I was in my own skin. But the blackness . . . did it mean that I was dead? Belarus did stab me, right?

So what does a teenage do when she believes that she is dead? "I'm sorry for all of my sins Jesus!" I called. That's right; she tries to bargain with God. "Especially for reading all those lemon fanfics! But at least I resisted the urge to kill Larry and Jerry for the past thirteen years! That should count for something, right?"

Giggling: that was what I heard next. It was soft and beautiful, drifting into my ears like song. "You're not dead," a practical voice said. I blinked. Seychelles had appeared before me, wearing her signature blue dress. She smiled easily, trying not to seem humored.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, taking a small step forward. She looked perfectly fine, not as though her back was littered with bruises and her arm with splinters. I gave a hesitant look around. Black was still everywhere. "Where is here?"

She gave a small shrug. "Limbo, I think," the nation replied. "Since you're in my body, I have to be somewhere, don't I?" She knew.

This just grew awkward. "Well, this is weird," I said, scratching the back of my head. What was I supposed to say to her? "Um, sorry for taking your body and everything. I really didn't mean too-"

"I know you didn't, I. . ." She looked to the side sorrowfully and sighed. It was the same expression Sadiq wore whenever he looked at that bloody clock! Remembering where she was, her face brightened and she smiled at me. "It doesn't really matter," she chirped, brightly smiling. "I mean: it's not as though I lost all control of my body!"

Her lovely laugh filled the stale air as her words took meaning for me. "What do you mean by 'not losing all control?'"

The girl fluttered her eyelids, surprised by my words. "Remember Tuesday?" She asked. "At the bar?" Slowly, I nodded. Then, I realized that she meant. When I kissed England. . .

I pointed an accusing finger at her, shouting, "Hooker-Sherry!" A horrified, yet confused look painted her face. I ignored it, continuing to demand, "Do you know how slutty you made me?"

"Slutty?" Seychelles's mouth dropped and a sassy disposition covered her face. "I was only trying to help!" She exclaimed. "If I hadn't done that-"

"He had a boyfriend!" I countered. At that moment, I felt as though I was arguing with Bella. How fitting. Either way, anything good I may have possibly been thinking of her earlier had completely disappeared. "What made you think that by kissing him, he would turn straight?"

"England's bisexual!" We both grew silent. Our rising voices had left us both with scattered breathes. My argument fell flat on the floor. If the Brit was bisexual, then that means. . .

I mouthed an apologetic 'oh'. Great, another relationship I just bloody screwed up. Not that wanted that stupid Mary-Sue to like me; I just didn't want to be enemies with the owner of my surrogate body. Gently, I tried walking closer to her, petting the air with open hands. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't-"

I was testily waved off. "Whatever." The nation gave a small eye roll before sighing. "It's been awhile," she said. "Turkey probably wants you back now."

"Wants me back?" I repeated, tilting my head in confusion. "What do you mean by-?"

The world around me started to fade away, like the opacity option on Photoshop. Seychelles waved to me as she grew more and more transparent. "I'll see you later!" she called out. "And by the way, what's your name?"

By now, I could barely even see the outline of her body. Losing all will to move, I called out, "It's Sherry Sue and what did you mean by-" The ground under me disappeared and I felt myself falling into the darkness.

Falling

and falling

and falling

and falling

a

n

d

F a l l i n g . . .

* * *

**Cycle 2: Monday**

I groaned and tried to reach for the alarm clock. It was blaring some Lady Gaga song on full volume. I don't know about you guys, but listening to sex songs at seven o'clock in the morning is not the best way to get up. I hit the button and smiled when silence filled the room. I could sleep for another five or so minutes.

Wait a second . . .

Suddenly, I jolted upright, darting my eyes around the room. I was back in Seychelles's dorm, wearing her night clothes, at seven o'clock in the morning. What in Shinatty's name. . .

"Good morning Sherry!" I paused, realizing that Sadiq was in the room. He sat in the exact same place he did when I first met him. He was grimacing as he idly played with the golden pocket watch between in hands. With even more fake, sarcastic enthusiasm, he greeted, "Welcome back to start."

* * *

**MW:** Woot! The last exposition chapter is finished! Now I can start doing shit!

**SEK: **(It's unprofessional to swear in the AN)

**BFTL: **Hey Wolf, what's the results from our turf war with deviantArt?

**MW: **Fanficition lost by two reviews. No worries guys! We'll get them this chapter! So REVIEW~!

**Funfacts**

**-"**The girl was zipping on her dress… was extremely lolita and cheesy." I got the dress design from a picture of what Lili's apparent formal dress was in the Gauken Hetalia game. What were the designers thinking. . .

**Next Chapter: **After a quick explanation from Sadiq, Sherry resumes her mission

*****REVIEW AND I'LL PROBABLY UPDATE FASTER (HINT)(HINT)*****


	4. Just A Game of Sims

**MW**: Sacre bleu! 24 commentaires! Merci ! Merci !

**SEK** : Pourquoi parlons-nous français ?

**MW** : Je ne sais pas. C'est amusement.

**SEK** : Stupide . . .

**MW** : Rappelez d'examiner !

**Résumé du Chapitre :** Sherry et Sadiq leur parlent parce qu'ils continuent leur quête

**Des ****Avertissements** : Langage ordurier, références sexuelles, yaoi, et yuri

**L'exclusion de Responsabilité** : Je n'avoue pas Hetalia.

* * *

**~Chapter 4~**

**Just A Game of Sims  
**

_"Art is the most intense mode of individualism that the world has known."_

**-Oscar Wilde, Irish writer and poet**

* * *

**Cycle 2: Monday**

I gave him a blank look. "Start?" I repeated, throwing the clean bed sheets off of me. This was bloody confusing me. One minute I was stabbed to death by Belarus, the next I'm talking to Seychelles, and now I'm back here? I pressed my lips and spat, "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Sadiq idly fingered the scarf around his neck. "You failed and so we restarted," he said simply. "We're back at Monday."

I wanted to smack my forehead. Why was he treating this like it was no big deal? Immediately, I exclaimed, "You're making no freaking sense! What do you mean by that?"

For a moment, all he did was stare straight at me. Somewhere in my mind warned me that he might hang me out the window again. I prayed he didn't. Once was good enough for me. To my utter relief, he slowly rose from his usual chair. "Have you ever played a videogame, Sherry?" he asked. His honey eyes seemed to looked right through me.

Videogames. . . I do know a lot about them, though I'm not much of a player. When I was little, Jerry and Larry would play Super Smash Brothers with me on out Nintendo 64. But over the years, I grew out of it and started concentrating my obsessions on other things, like anime. My brothers, however, still go to Gamestop daily, checking out the new releases.

With that in mind, I gave a slight shrug. "To an effect," I answered.

Sadiq breathed a small sigh through his nose. "What happens when you die?" he asked.

"_Since when was this a religious conversation?" _I wondered. I know that I shove my pairings down your throats all the time, but on my deviantArt profile, I have a stamp that reads 'I hate people who shove their beliefs down others throats'.

I picked at the fluffy white comforter and gave another shrug. "Heaven or hell, I guess," I said.

I could feel the Turk's need to face palm. "Not that," he growled irritably. Well, someone was not in a good mood. "I mean in video games."

Oh. "You restart and go back to the last checkpoint." That's when it hit me in the face. Hard. "I'm restarting?" I shrieked, my voice shrill with shock. This just gets more and more screwed up by the second. "How the fuck is that possible?"

Sadiq pulled out his golden pocket watch and check the time. Somberly, he sighed again and explained, "It's the jackass's doing. He made it so that if you don't get that kiss by the midnight deadline, we both have to go back to day one and start all over."

My head spun. I'm a logical person. I knew quite well that it was nearly impossible to get someone to fall in love with you in less than a week. You had to be perfect in order to do that. And remember, if you go to a dictionary and look up 'perfect', I would be listed as an antonym.

I gave my mentor a wide-eyed look as I squeaked, "_Every_ time I die?"

"More like every time you fail," he corrected, a slight shrug on his shoulders. "But yes, every time you die."

For a long moment, I was silent. By now, I was killing the comforter with my nick picking. Already there was a small hole tearing its way through the sheets. Everything he was telling me was slowly being processed in my mind. The Mini-Sherrys living inside of my head were slowly writing everything down and filing it in its proper filing cabinet. I really needed to update my brain to computers; it'll save a lot of time and effort. I might even be able to fire a few of them . . .

I tossed the blanket away, exclaiming, "Every time I fail and or die? What is this? Freaking HetaOni?"

My dear Turkish mentor gave me a puzzled look. "What in God's name is 'HetaOni?'" He demanded. The brunette really didn't sound annoyed, just confused. But that was beside the point.

The point was that he had no idea what HetaOni was. As a dedicated Hetalia fan girl, it was my sacred duty to inform him of it. It took me a full thirty minutes to go through the whole fan base- everything from the plot to the fan reactions. The only time his face wasn't blank was when the morning bells rung. We missed class, but I didn't care- Sadiq had to know what this was.

Maybe he knew what happened after part 17 1/2. Hmmm . . .

When my tale was finished, the dark man placed his face in his hands. I think I finally used up all of his tired patience. "That's awful," he said. "What kind of person would think of something like that?"

"Dedicated Italy fangirls," I mindlessly replied. "He is pretty awesome in it."

"Am I in it?" He asked. There was a concerned tone in his voice. I shook my head and he gave an obvious breath of relief. I guess it mildly disturbed him to think that an alternate version of himself was escaping from Steve.

The man averted his eyes and looked out the open window (hey, why wasn't that closed? I would think that the nation would close it when she went to sleep). The sun was shining brightly like a lamp in a dark room. Even inside I could feel the pleasant heat it emitted.

He looked old. The burden look in his eyes made wrinkles magically appeared. I noticed his calloused hands turning his watch over in his hands. There definitely was something precious about it.

Cautiously, I pointed a small finger at it. "Sadiq, what's that?" I asked.

His gaze shot towards me like a deer in headlights. He was tensed, as if he was preparing to strike me. "It's nothing," he snapped, voice dripping with acid. Angrily, he shoved it back into his pocket, glaring at me. "Don't ever mention it again Sherry, got it?"

Shit. "Yes sir!" I nodded recklessly, senses on haywire. Why was it so important that it would cause him to go all bipolar on me? He didn't act half this pissed when he found out I was trying to bring France and England back together.

"_Maybe Seychelles will know." _The thought seemed like a decent one to me. I mean, she did seem to know more than I did. I looked at Sadiq, knitting my brows together. I wondered, should I tell him about my meeting with her? _"He probably already knows," _I reasoned. The thought was perfectly acceptable, though it wasn't what I was really thinking. If he wasn't going to tell me about the watch, I wasn't going to tell him about the nation.

Simple as that.

Sadiq ran his hands down his face, groaning under his breath. His muttered "sorry" was barely audible. "Let's just get a move on," he said, taking back his at the chair. He slouched in it, turning his hands to his hair. He fiddled with it between his fingers, thinking unreadable thoughts. "Do you understand now, Sherry?" he asked, staring up at the plain white ceiling. "It's vital that you get that Godforsaken kiss or else we'll both be stuck here for a long time."

Before I could say anything, he stood and went to the door. He paused a moment, hand lingering over the doorknob. "Try to fix the mistakes you made last time," he said softly. "I wrote down your complete class schedule and a map of the school so that you don't get loss."

He opened it and took a small step out. "You have to get that kiss," he added. "You have to."

I was left sitting on the bed, wondering. What the frack just happened? Since when was he so . . . gosh, I don't even have a word to describe it. There was just something off about him. Something completely off.

After a few minutes, my grumbling stomach reminded me where I was. I had to go to my next few classes, lunch, more classes, student council room, dinner, then back to here. Ironically, it sounded like a normal teenager's life.

"_But nothing about this is normal."_ I thought dryly. Even if I really did belong at this school, I would still be a country and that was high on the abnormal scale. Carefully, I swung my legs onto the floor and stood. Not an ache in my body. At a turtle's pace, I peeled off the white night gown and pulled a clean school uniform on.

Like last Monday, I spotted the bottle of shea butter lotion on the tighty desk. I thoughtfully turned it in my hands, observing the package design. Sadiq still had to tell me what was this stuff. I know that it's just a lotion, but it was really bothering me.

What in the world _is _shea butter?

* * *

**Cycle 2: The Room**

Turkey wanted to groan. He was there again- in the Room. He swore, if he had to spend hours just sitting in those starchy white clothes, he was going to go insane. "I don't have time for this," he drawled, glaring at his unfocused reflection on the glossed walls. The man impatiently drummed his fingers on his knees, adding, "Can we just get this over with?"

A small, yet powerful chuckle bounced off the walls of the room. "You're in a bright mood today," the Voice said. "Come on, smile," it said. "I like it when you smile." Turkey only frowned more. or he at least tried to.

Against every ounce of will in his body, the corners of his lips curled upward in a fake grin. All he could do was grit his teeth together. Damn jackass, controlling him like that. Turkey glared up at the white ceiling (maybe that was where the Voice was) and growled for it to stop it.

The Voice did his bidding, releasing his hold. Sounding bored, it sighed, "Well, you're no fun. You never smile when you're here."

The Turk scooted forward in his chair, lashing his voice at the air in front of him. "Why should I, jackass? I don't want to be here!"

"You can stop this whenever you want-" Anyone could hear the mocking smirk on its face. "-Sadiq."

Fist clenched and tempers were lost. "Don't you fucking call me that!" He yelled, jumping from his chair. Like a hurricane, he stormed around the nuanced room, demanding, "Do not fucking call me that, jackass!"

"Yet you let the girl call you that." He paused. The wall in front of him reflected the dark, ominous figure of the materialized Voice. His back turned to solid ice; all will to move was lost. The Voice circled around him. "You're getting weak," it said. "You, the Great Ottoman Empire are developing a soft spot for a pain in the ass."

Turkey held his hands at his side, staring at the wall in front of him. Do not move, don't let it know. It continued, "But you are weak. After all-" Cold hands held the man's neck in a tight hold. It wasn't enough to stop his breathing, but it made a point.

In nothing more than a whisper, the Voice brought his mouth right at his victim's ear. "-Isn't that why you're here? Because you have a weak spot?"

Then, Turkey woke-up.

* * *

**Cycle 2: Monday**

I yawned as I held my pulled my school map from my bag Oh my God, this thing was so bloody helpful. I wanted to kiss Sadiq's feet and thank him a million times for presuming that I was an idiot. I haven't had a single mishap all day!

Because it took me so long to get ready this morning (I tried googling shea butter on Saychelles's computer, just to find out that my dear mentor freaking blocked all the bloody websites!), I didn't make it in time for History. So instead, I went to my next class: math.

I smiled for the camera and pretended that I understood everything Geometry Teacher Pangaea taught us. I'm sorry, but what is the point of sine and cosine? When will a normal teen or nation need this in real life? By knowing what the measure of a random angle, are we going to be able to prevent a war?

Come on! It's not as if Hitler waged war against all of Europe because they couldn't tell him what the measure for angle X was! If he did, then I would proudly try to study this, but until then, I'll just laugh at the mental image of Hitler struggling with his homework.

Ha, ha. So funny.

After that it was PE. Physical Education Teacher Pangaea basically just called whoever was late to class to the front of the gym and pull a sheet of paper from a hat. Whatever was on it was the activity we did. Lucky for me, Estonia was the chosen one and we ended up playing basketball. I wasn't a big fan of the sport, but it was better than running. Plus, I had Liechtenstein with me so we got to do what girls always got to do: talk. Overall, it was a surprisingly good class, though one thing bugged me: Sadiq never showed.

The man did tell me that he and I shared all of our classes together, yet I haven't seen his face since this morning. "_Switzerland's going to kill him," _I thought grimly, pulling my jumper back on. We were in the girl's locker rooms, changing out of our blue PE uniforms and into our normal ones. God, the shorts were so short- I looked more like a slut than usual.

What if Hooker-Sherry returns with vengeance?

Seychelles's blond friend smiled softly at me, stealing my attention. "What is that for?" she asked, indicating to the map.

I grinned and snatched it off the brown bench. "It's nothing," I said quickly, slamming my black locker shut. Why do we have locker rooms if this was a dorm school? Like seriously, the countless rows of black lockers with long benches between each was such a space waster.

Liechtenstein nodded, accepting my answer. "I didn't see you for breakfast this morning," she said, running a pink brush through her blond hair. "Did something happen?"

"No." I pulled my white socks high up my knees. "It's part of a new diet," I lied. "Just trying to lose a few pounds." From the corner of my eye, I noticed groups of female nations glaring at us. Why? We did nothing wrong . . . that I know of. Yeah, last cycle I vaguely remembered feeling as though I was constantly being watched, yet to this extent? Last time, I bore through it but now I just wanted to run.

"You don't need to lose weight!" She exclaimed. "You're perfect the way you are!"

I wanted to shake my head and deny it. I wasn't my mom, I wasn't Bella, and I definitely wasn't Seychelles. There was nothing perfect by me. "Yeah . . ." The constant glares continued to make me uncomfortable. "If you say so . . ."

Seychelles's phone started ringing, her national anthem playing again. The caller ID read it to be my missing Turkish friend. Eagerly, I opened the text.

_Waiting 4 u outside LR_. _Come out now_

Thank you, oddly convenient text message! I flipped the cell shut and heaved my bag over my shoulder. Liechtenstein gave me a worried look, pressing her lips together. "Where are you going?" she softly asked.

"I have to meet a friend," I said, not even bothering to look at her. "I'll see you later, okay?" I hurried out before she could say anything else. A small little part of me- the one that sounded a lot like Seychelles -screamed at me to turn around and stay in there with her, but I ignored it. Fuck Seychelles, I am a woman of my own making.

As foretold, Sadiq was leaning against the wall opposite to me. He looked a lot better than before, even going as far as to give me a small- very -small smile. But his eyes were still stressed. I did my best to return the smile, greeting him, "Where the heck have you been?"

"Doing stuff," he replied easily, kicking off the wall. I noticed that instead of wearing the scarf Poland gave him, his normal black tie was replaced with a bright pink one. He must have noticed my gaze since he tightened it a bit. "I just want to say something." I nodded, awaiting his words. "I'm sorry for being a little. . . hard on you earlier," he said, a small cough in his voice. "I just-"

I didn't notice the start of his new sentence. "It's fine," I chirped. "You just have to tell me what shea butter is." What? A girl can try.

"No." Damn him. Sadiq reached for his pocket, but resisted. "Class is going to start soon," he said, grinning nervously. He was going to take out his watch and he knew that I knew it. "Let's head out."

Hesitantly, I shifted on my feet. Maybe I should go back and check on Leich . . . the man nudged me forward and I hurried after him.

The tanned man stretched his arms and yawned. "Tired?" I asked, trailing a few inches behind him.

He nodded. "Just took a nap," he explained. There was a second of silence before he actually reached the order of our business. "So, do you have a plan?" he asked. "How are you going to do this?"

I couldn't help but to smile. Oh, the little plans in my mind . . . "It's very simple really," I replied, smiling mischievously. "So very simple."

He deadpanned, "Spit it out Sherry." Well that just ruins my moment of suspense. Has he never watched an anime? You say a dramatic line like that before ending the episode. That's how you get people to watch the next episode.

Who would have thought an anime character was so clueless in the ways of anime?

Silently groaning, I rolled my eyes and told him. "Well I did a little thinking, _Sadiq. _This whole situation (me as Seychelles) kind of sounds like a really bad fan fiction. And what usually happens in said stories? The OC- me -wins every male's heart by being their usual goofy selves. So, that is exactly what I'm going to do."

My plan earned me two responses. The first was the nation just giving me a blank stare. The second was him grabbing the back of my collar, growling, "Where the hell is the nearest window?"

"What the hell?" I screeched. Panic surged through me and my sweat turned cold. Anything but _that. _

"That is the dumbest idea I've ever heard," he snapped, releasing me. I placed a hand over my throat and thanked the Lord I've been spared. "What in the world would make you think that _that _idiotic plan would actually work?"

Again, I rolled my eyes and resumed my journey to art class. There would be a lot less of a chance of him killing me if we were around other countries. "Fanfiction."

We turned a corner just as the bells rang. Passing period was just starting and students flooded like a wave into the halls. My mentor angrily followed me, hissing into my ear, "Have you ever read any of that crap? Complete bull shit."

I froze in my steps. The classroom was near and we were in the middle of the hallway. As a few people cursed at my hindrance, I turned sharply on my toes and pointed a finger at him. "You read fan fiction?" I demanded, trying not to sound humored. His red faced response was enough for me. "What kind?"

"Shut it." Testily, he grabbed my arm and dragged me our class. "Just act like Seychelles and try to hide your stupidity, got it?" We entered the class and released me. Without another word, he sulked off to his table, ignoring the confused glances of our already present classmates.

The art room was large and airy. The floors were a glossy dark wood and the walls were a creamy white. Row after row of tables traveled down the room's length. Everywhere, art supplies and colorful paint splatters were scattered, resembling something like my room. Art Teacher Pangaea sat on a low stool, painting on a large canvas.

Casually (because my throat and arm were totally not hurting), I took the nearest empty seat. Which just happened to be right next to Estonia. Was this guy forever alone or something? It seemed as though every time I saw him there was an electrical device on him. Geek.

"Morning Seychelles," he greeted, moving his finger across the screen of his iPod Touch. His glasses reflected the game of Angry Birds he was playing. Hey, did you know that in Finland, they were making an Angry Birds theme park? It made me wonder why a bunch of Finnish people would give an American game something like that. I mean, it's not as though we Americans have done something like. . .

Harry Potter World is different, okay?

Ahem.

"I didn't see in History today," he stated, not bothering to look up at me. "We took notes on the War of Jenkins Ear."

I shrugged and flicked Seychelles's ponytail. "I remember that war," I said coolly. Yes, I am still going to be myself, but at least give me the opportunity to please the Turk. "I was injured a few times. . ."

Estonia looked up at me, a perplexed look on his face. "Um, Seychelles." He struggled with his words, but eventually mumbled, "You never fought in that one."

Shit. As my cold sweat returned, I heard Sadiq loudly face palm. "I know," I said quickly, searching for an excuse. "I'm just. . . um . . . seeing whether or not you did?" I gave a hopeful grin.

Before he could reply, the bell rung and class started. The plump lady we call 'teacher' stood and gave a small bow. "Good morning class," she greeted, a dripping paintbrush in her hand. "And welcome to another exciting day in art!" The class politely applauded. No one- not even myself -adore art class. For the unskilled, it's hell that looks pretty. For the artist, it's like having to explain the plot of the Lion King. Pangaea smiled broadly. "I want you all to continue with your projects," she said. "They're due next week, 'kay?"

After mumbled agreement, everyone rose from their seats and retrieved their works. Last cycle, I had discovered that Seychelles was trying to sculpt a sword fish. It was failing. So, me trying to be her, I did my best to improve it.

The end results slightly resembled Larry's homophobia.

Luckily, there was no trace that I had even done anything to it. You know, because it never happened. I turned the sculpture in my hands, regarding it with cold eyes. "That's pretty good," Estonia commented, searching for his watercolor picture.

I shrugged and dumped it into the trashcan. I heard his mouth drop in shock. "I can do better," I replied, like a boss. Swiftly, I took a pointed pencil and a fairly new sketchbook off one of the cluttered shelf.

I felt his blue eyes on me as I returned to our table. It sent shivers down my spine. Creepy. I opened the book to a crisp white page. "_What should I draw?" _I wondered, tapping my pencil rhythmically. I had the Spongebob Squarepants theme song stuck in my head. I rested my hand on my chin, lightly gazing over the classroom.

I normally drew either France or England, but that would be creepy. An extremely depressed Italy was here and I used to draw a lot of GerIta, but the very thought of drawing the slut's boyfriend. . . ew!

My gaze eventually rested on Sadiq. He was pounding a small ball of clay on the table, making pottery. Maybe I could draw him. Decisively, I stood, took the art supplies, and marched over to him. He notice me when I pulled up a chair and prompted the sketchbook on my knee.

"What are you doing?" he asked, trying not to sound annoyed. This time, I could see why he would be that way. But nobody should disrupt the work of an artist like moi.

"Drawing," I replied, not glancing up from the paper. Lightly, I started etching out his head. "I find you inspiring." The circle I made was lop sided. Scowling, I patiently erased it and started over.

The nation gritted his teeth together, flashing his pearly whites. "But Seychelles, you don't draw," he hissed, pounding harder on his clay. I bet he was imagining my head.

My new circle was crooked. Irritated, I tore the paper out and started over on a new sheet. "I know I don't," I replied, pressing my pencil on the paper. A wave of panic flushed over me when the first few centimeters of my line was off. "But I am an artist-" I tried again, but failed. "-right?"

Sadiq knitted his eyebrows together, hearing the questioning tone in my voice. "Is something-"

My hand jerked and my circle suddenly had an angle. "No!" I yelled, terror shaking my hands. I ripped that paper out and restarted again. "I just need a little practice . . ."

I was not perfect. I know it, you know it- end of story. There was nothing that could set me apart from every other face in the crowd. That is, except my drawings. For my whole life, I've been the only one who could draw. Neither of my parents, siblings, or friends could match me. Yeah, Bella could draw an awesome flower, but I beat her at humans.

Drawing was the one thing I was good at.

The one thing I could do right.

And it was gone.

When I was sitting in that art room, cursing, erasing, and tearing away at my attempted pictures; the dark, looming walls rose around me. I felt tight, squashed- even captured. The ruin papers made a mini ocean around my little stool, isolating me in this nightmare. All the while, Sadiq silently watched me.

By the time the ending bells rung, I was in tears. I was hunched over, my face in my hands. The sketchbook was thrown to the ground long forgotten. My sobs were muffled, a sorry excuse for my attempts to quell them. _"This is my worst nightmare," _I thought, hiccuping loudly. _"I fucking hate my life." _It was obvious that many people were stopping to watch, but I didn't care.

I couldn't draw anymore.

Distantly, I heard Pangaea asking everyone to leave. It was something about a staff meeting. Hordes of feet shuffled out, the gossip already starting. Like I give a damn. She tried getting Sadiq to leave, but instead he volunteered to bring me back to my dorm. I felt him lift me into his arms bridal style. I pressed my face against his chest and allowed him to carry me away.

The halls were empty. My mentor was able to bring me back to my room unnoticed. After a long while, we arrived at Seychelles's room. He laid me on the bed and reclaimed his seat at his usual chair.

I laid on my stomach and buried my face into my pillow, crying even harder. _"I can't draw. I can't draw. . ." _Silence coated his mouth. For a full thirty minutes, he did nothing but just stare at me. It was impossible to tell why.

"I'm sorry," he said at last, sounding a little awkward. " . . . You can't draw, right?" He received a sob in reply. "I know that drawing must be very important to you then."

"Fuck off Sadiq," I cried, pressing my face deeper into the pillow. "You don't care at all."

The next thing I knew, I was lifted off the bed. The man slapped me hard across the face, summoning more tears, but silencing my sobs. "Get a hold of yourself!" he demanded, hitting me again. I winced and yelped, feeling the painful burning sensation develop on my face.

Bravely, I stared him straight in the eyes, sniffling. There was a hard look on his face, telling me to stop crying. "Whatever your reason for drawing is: forget it," he snapped. "What you may have against me: forget it. Here, you're not Sherry Sue. Here, you're the Republic of Seychelles. Seychelles cannot draw. You are Seychelles. Here, you cannot be yourself." He released me and made his way to the door.

His was still looking at me, borrowing his gaze into my chest, making it feel heavier. "But the sooner this ends the sooner you can be yourself," he added, sounding like stone. "And you are the only one who can do that."

He left. He just left.

* * *

**Cycle 2: Monday**

I looked at the student council room's door and sighed. Here I was, just about to make a first impression. Again. Not a lot of people get this kind of an opportunity, so I guess that I was lucky.

Nervously, I wiped my hands on my skirt. I was alone; Sadiq didn't come with me this time. After he had walked out of the dorm, I sat there until the end of the school day. I didn't want to have to deal with the rest of the world right now.

Weakly, I placed a hand over the knob. Yet, if I were to get out of here, I had to show my face sometime. I gulped and started to turn it. The events of last cycle's first meeting came back to my mind. Silently cursing, I stopped and took a step back.

Sadiq said that I had to fix all of my mistakes. So if I were to fix this one. . .

Loudly, I banged my fist on the wood. "France! England!" I yelled, making sure the whole bloody school knew that it was me. "I'm coming in!" As a precaution, I waited outside for a few extra seconds before marching in.

The two men were seated at opposite ends of the table, laboring away at their large stacks of papers. They looked calm, yet both of their clothes were ruffled. A lot. And there was a bulge in France's pants. Dear Lord. . .

"Good afternoon Seychelles," England greeted, greens eye concentrating on a yellow notepad. "How has your day been?"

Something in my mind realized that that this was an exact carbon copy of the previous cycles's meeting. It made me want to press my lips together, but I resisted. Instead, I pleasantly smiled and took a seat. "It's been fine," I said. "How has yours been?"

I claimed a few sheets of papers and shrugged. "Okay."

France looked up, flicking his blond hair. "Are you sure? I heard you had a break down during your art class," he said, sounding more concern than the Turk ever did. "Did something happen?"

I couldn't tell him about that. My eyebrows drawn, I flipped t the next page on the stack. "Nothing happened," I spat. Subconsciously, I found myself doodling a flower. Even that looked pathetic. "Everything's just dandy."

I ripped the paper away and started over again. The two blonds stared at me, exchanging unsure glances. Carefully, France rose and asked, "Are you sure? You sound a bit upset." He made his way to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. I ignored it.

England copied his move, saying, "You can tell us anything poppet." Their presence was causing me to flinch. I just wanted them to go away and leave me to sulk.

"We're worried about you," the other added, wrapping his arms around my head. He pressed me close to his chest and he ran his fingers through the African's dark hair. "Was it something with Germany?"

"No." My voice sounded weak and constricted. There was the strong urge to cry, but I did my best to ignore it. I didn't cry during _My Sister's Keeper _and I was not going to start now.

Seychelles's father released me. He gently pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. "Are you sick?" he asked.

For a second, I was tempted to tell him everything that happened. I was tempted to tell him everything that had happened to me. Just as I opened my mouth, Sadiq's angry face came to my mind. The fear of being hit or held out a window over came me. "It's just PMS," I said quickly, shoving them both away. "I'm fine."

The two men exchanged glances again before letting me go. We resumed our work, sorting through the papers for the prom. England tried to explain them to me, but I just told him what he told me last time. That earned a confused look.

"Are you going to the prom with anyone?" England asked, scribbling something on his sheet.

I looked up at him, a bit more than a little amazed. Was the Brit was asking me out again? I doubted it. After all, he is 'FrUk'ed right now. I shrugged and told him, "Yeah. Germany I think." Crap, I have to get rid of that problem soon or else the last incident was going to repeat itself. Today just wasn't my day.

"That's good," France said, smiling broadly. "At least we didn't waste our money on buying that dress for you."

I smiled back at him. "It's really pretty," I replied. "I'm glad I have it." I paused, waiting for someone to say something. When neither of them did, I restarted the conversation. "Are you guys going to the prom?"

"Of course we are," The Frenchman exclaimed, growing more excited by the second. His blue eyes shot a flirtatious gaze to his boyfriend. "Why wouldn't I want to take my little bunny?" I didn't bother to hide my smirk. That was such a cute nickname.

England blushed heavily, shoot his gaze to his wrist watch. "Well, look at the time," he said quickly, jumping from his chair. "I think its time for us to get going now." His embarrassment made me giggle.

Just watching all this mild 'FrUk' was making me feel better by the second. I stood and handed the papers to the Brit. "I'll see you later then," I said. Both of them wished me goodbye as I walked to the door. I had one foot out when I decided to add one last little thought.

I turned back to them and gave them the most serious look in the world. "Look, I love 'FrUk' more than anything, but I need you two to break up and fall in love with me."

"What?"

I smirked waved their shocked looks away. "See ya!" I closed the door behind myself and laughed. _"I just freaked them out," _I thought mirthfully, leaning against the door. The world didn't seem so bad anymore. _"Sadiq's going to be pissed." _My smile turned into a frown. "_Shit." _

Well, when this all works out in the end, he wouldn't be mad. In fact, the man is going to be bloody grate-

"Seychelles!" I froze and shot my gaze down the hall. Germany was turning the corner. He looked so relieved to see me. Cold sweat drenched my back. Fuck! I forgot about this part.

Like a guilty squirrel, I ran for my life. My flats clicked on the marble floors as I ran as far away as I could. Like before, he chased after me, calling out Seychelles's name. This was just like the last time. Heck, we were even taking the same exact path.

I went down a flight of stairs and dashed further down the evening halls. The large windows brought in an orange hue from the setting sun. Name called again, I adjusted the bag on my back and ran faster. I had to get away. Sliding, I made a sharp corner and ran through the first door I could find.

I was just about to open it when I remembered what was on the other side. If I was going to fix my mistakes, then at least let me avoid being killed. With the time I saved from not pausing earlier, I went to the next door down the line and ran inside.

I closed it shut and pressed my ear against it. Through my loud panting, I heard Germany run right by me. I sighed and closed my eyes. Slowly, I slid my back down the floor until I was sitting on the floor. Free at last. I could finally- "Dude! Don't you know how to knock?" My eyes flew open and I saw that I was not alone in the room.

This time, I wasn't looking at Belgium and Belarus making out on a science table. No, instead I was looking at America and Denmark getting it on in the cooking room. What was up with everyone and getting M rated in _classrooms?_

I looked away and pretended to curse. I've read too many doushinjis to be disturbed by this, but I didn't want to come off as a pervert. "Put some clothes on!" I demanded.

Five minutes later, I was probably in the middle of the strangest situation of my life. Denmark, America, and I sat at a black counter in an awkward atmosphere. Both of the blonde's hair was messy (even more so for the Dane) and they wore the bare minimum of clothes: their plaid pants and open white shirts. In the fluorescent lighting, I could see their sexy toned chests. Their blazers and shoes were wildly casted off to the side.

"Dude, have you ever heard of knocking?" America asked, cleaning his glasses with the end of his shirt. I did not want to think about what was on them.

I gave an unsure grin. "I was in a hurry," I explained. "I didn't think anyone was in here. Doing . . ." I trailed off, at a lost for words.

The Nordic laughed and painfully patted my back. "No worry, the King of Northern Europe doesn't mind," he said loudly, grinning happily. "Just don't tell Japan about this."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why not Japan?"

The master if hair gel nervously laughed and flashed a white smile. "Well you see here, Japan is dating Spain right now, but he's having an affair with me. But at the same time, I'm having an affair with America here."

Immediately, I face desked. What was this? A freaking love octagon? Whatever happened to the 'Ameripan'? It was my second OTP! And they ruin it with something stolen from _All My Children? _Cheese and crackers. "Why would you do something like that?" I mumbled, still banging my head again and again.

His smile only grew larger. "Because I'm cool. . . like snow."

I banged my head again. Idiots.

"What's up with you?" America asked in his overdone American accent. What the hell? He sounded just like Eric Vale. Trippy. . . "Ya sure seem like ya in distress."

I lifted my head and ran my sweaty hands over my face. There would be no harm in telling them. I mean, what can two idiots do? "Everything," I replied. "I have to turn two guys straight by the end of the week."

"Ah Dude, that's cool!" See? Worthless. America jumped up and down like an excited kid at the candy store. "Who is it? China? Estonia? Iceland?"

Denmark laughed. "I don't think Icy's gay" he said.

The other pouted. "He's not?"

The Dane shook his head. "Because he has never dated anything," he explained. "I think he's either asexual or attracted to that puffin."

For the third time, I banged my head on the table. Oh God, where was this conversation going?

"That makes sense," his blond sex partner said. There was a thoughtful look in his blue eyes. "I mean: if someone carries around an animal like that, then they have to be having a relationship with it."

I raised my head, giving them an annoyed look. "Are you saying that Canada's having sex with Kumajiro?" I asked, wondering how much longer it would be until it was safe to go outside again. Surly Germany was far from this place. . .

My attention, however, was stolen by the 'oh shit' look on Denmark's face. What did I- Loudly, America jumped onto the table, proclaiming loudly, "Canada is just a theory!"

I gave him one of those 'you're crazy' looks. "What?"

Mr. I-Ate-Too-Much-Chemically-Enhanced-Beef laughed. "Canada is a theoretical place only found when you square root the results of multiplying pi with an scalene triangle. And that's only after you play the Song of Time on our magical electric air guitar."

His stupidity blew my mind so efficiently that I was only able to repeat, "What?"

America crouched to my height and petted my head. "It's a safe haven for when the zombie apocalypse occurs. No one can get in there-"

"Unless you were a ninja or something," Denmark added helpfully.

At this point, the conversation was just getting ridiculous. Abruptly, I stood and grabbed my bag. "I'm going to go now," I said, inching back to the door. At this point, both of them were engrossed in whether or not Prussia was attracted to Gilbird or not. "Bye."

I practically ran out the door and slammed it shut. The noise echoed down the hall, telling me how alone I was. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. My pigtails must look so messy right now.

"Hey you!" I jerked to the right, barely avoiding the bullet that zoomed right by my face.

* * *

**MW**: Droit est-ce que je dis?

**SEK**: Le français est détruire votre esprit.

**MW** : Fermez la bouche !

**Faits Amusants**

-2 gens devine la HetaOni blauge et le jeu vidéo blauge.

-Je ne regrette pas l'ecris en francias.

-L'anglais vient la chapitre suivant

**La Chapitre Suivant**: Le tireur se révèle et France btient un certain temps à l'écran

*******S'il vous plaît avis ! *******


	5. Draw a Cirlce, There's a Slut!

**SEK**: Hola todos! Gracias por todos los comentarios, se hacían nuestras dias aqui. Lo siento que Uds. se estaban esperando por tanto tiempo, fue mi culpa por no leer este capítulo. :(

**MW**: **SEK**! Stop speaking unnecessary Spanish! It's intimidating our readers! We scared them enough as is with my mad French skills last chapter.

**SEK**: No se importa, ellos se pueden ir a traducir, pero mis hermanos Latinos necesitan saber mi amor! Les amo! (Y si te haces comments en espanol, te amo tanto mas ;)

**MW**: This is me, pretending that I understood any of that *naive white girl* . -_-  
Anyways, thank you all for reviewing last chapter (Holy Saint Francis! 37 reviews!). We apologize for the long wait, but its summer vacation now and updates will hopefully be more consistent. But I highly doubt it since  
1) I'm lazy  
2) I'm experimenting with a new writing schedule

Hopefully it'll work out. Oh! And I almost forgot! Isn't the new picture feature cool? I made that image at the top myself! Ain't it purtty? *is proud*

Remember to review!

**Resumen**: Después de un momento con suiza, francia por fin tiene tiempo libre.

**Advertencias**: lenguaje fuerte, temas sexuales, yaoi, y yuri

**Descargo de responsabilidad**: No somos propietarios de Hetalia

* * *

**~Chapter 5~**

**Draw a Circle, There's a Slut!**

"_Fransexual (n): The lack of sexual discrimination against man, woman, animal, and object. Originated in France."_

_-_**From "HETA", an American fanfiction by BFTLandMWandSEK**

* * *

**Cycle 2: Monday**

I sighed and opened the door to my dorm. A thick sea of black filled the room, save for the areas dimly lit from the hallway. It was late. I was tired, hungry, and pissed as shit. Sadiq was not going to be happy once he found out what happened. . .

Slowly, I dragged my feet into the dark labyrinth of Seychelles's room. The door closed shut behind me, removing the main source of light. Stiffly, I opened the blinds to reveal the bright moon, giving Seychelles's dorm a slightly brighter feel. My head roared with my little incident only minutes earlier, making me dread the following week.

I flopped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

"_What the hell are you doing shooting randomly at people?" I demanded, shooting an angry glare at Switzerland._

"_Piss off," he barked, pointing his gun at me. I involuntarily flinched. The King of the Hallways held a bright pink slip in front of my face. "Do you know what this is?"_

_The incident Sadiq and I had with him last cycle came to mind. "It's a truancy slip," I said. Why was he making such a big deal about that?_

_The blond curtly nodded. "Yes and it's for you." What? "You missed most of your class periods today. Due to this and your current record, Principle Pangaea has banned you from the school dance."_

I rubbed my hands over my face. I wasn't able to get that kiss when I had the extra romantic event. How the hell was I supposed to do without it? I groaned and continued to massage my face. My hands smelled like the ever mysterious shea butter. Damn, I really wish I knew what that was right now; it's bugging me.

"_But Sadiq isn't going to tell me until I get it," _I thought angrily. The day someone explains to me what it is the day my life will be completed. And I wasn't going to get my drawing ability back until I get that out of this godforsaken body.

Weakly, I pulled out the nation's phone and held it in front of my face. There were a few text messages from Germany, Liechtenstein, and France. Burrowing my eyebrows, I skipped the German speaker's and read the Frenchie's.

_R u alrght? u seemd off_

I bit my lip. Once again, it was so tempting to just spill the whole story to him. France was (after all) Seychelles's father. He would want to help a stranger get out of her body. Using Sonic the Hedgehog like speed, I started to type out my life story. I was half way through explaining the jackass when I remembered Sadiq.

The waterfall of fear drenched me. Printed on my eyes was his frustrated glare staring at me as he raised his hand to hit me. True, the most he ever done to hit me was slap me across the face, but there was so much more.

The trepidation he induced when he held me out of that bloody window was always there. If he would do something like that, then who said he wouldn't turn to actually punching and kicking me.

"_I sound like that girl from _Dreamland," I thought grimly, deleting half the text. For those of you who don't read teen angst, it's a story about a teenage girl caught in an abusive relationship.

I know what you all are thinking: "Why is Sherry reading a book like that? That's not her type." I know it isn't. It was part of a collection of books my mom made me read upon entering high school.

Basically, she wanted to scare me out of getting caught in unhealthy situations (like drugs, rape, teen pregnancy). So she forced me to spend my summer reading all these mentally disturbing books. The only downside to this plan was the fact that she bought all of these books from Borders when they were having their closing sale. So what do they sell her? Faulty additions. I ended up reading about three-fourths of my abusive relationship book since the last quarter of the book was missing.

The point of that whole story: I have an idea on how people get caught in those kinds of relationships, but no idea how to get out.

"_If I'm afraid to do things because of his wrath, then I'm being abused." _The conclusion barely brought me ease. _"So what can I do? Contact my local Turkish abuse hotline?" _I wanted to bang my forehead on the floor.

I needed to stop making fun of abusive relationships before someone starts complaining.

The only way I was getting out of here was to get one of the guys to fall in love with me. The smartest and easiest direction would be England since he is, well, bisexual. But they very thought of it made me frown. I could just picture that smug look of Seychelles's face.

No, I was going to win it from France. I mean- it does make a lot more sense. That guy was a freaking fransexual! He was attracted to everything, including me. And besides, he wasn't a complete tsundere and deny whatever feelings he may have. I knew that the minute he had the slightest love for me, he'll be sucking my face off.

Determinedly, I smirked and resumed texting the man. This time, it wasn't of my life story, but me telling him that I really appreciated his concern. If I was right then he would be lying on his bed, lightly blushing at the thought of me.

Or he would be blushing at a picture England sent him.

Either one was cool with me.

* * *

**Cycle 2: Wednesday**

I sat at my usual seat, sketching my heart out. It was- once again -art and I was attempting to draw. Again. It had become a mild obsession of mine, constantly drawing and doodling. When I went to help England and France, I would be trying to create the perfect circle. Like every time before, I never did.

It even had reached the point where Germany was asking me about it. "Seychelles, you have been acting weird lately," he had told me during our breakfast. I had to shrug away the affectionate hand he placed over my forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling fine," I said, stabbing my pancakes violently. The maple syrup drenched remains reminded me of a horde of dead zombies. Don't ask, just go with it. "Why do you ask?"

My 'boyfriend' gave me an annoyed look. "You've been saying a lot of strange things lately," he said, taking another bite of his scrambled eggs.

I poured more of the delicious sugary liquid onto my food. God, I love this stuff. I could be considered Canadian if I wasn't- you know -born on the West coast (USA, FTW!). But hey, I bet a lot of Canadians act the same way I do. Grinning smugly, I asked, "Like what?"

A small sigh left his lips. Loudly, he placed his fork onto his plate and listed off his fingers: "You have been drawing a lot, you haven't been talking much to either me or Liechtenstein, you have been ignoring my texts, you- with no offense attended -smelloddly-"

I grinned. "Have you never smelled shea butter?" I admit, I might be over using it, but it just smells so good!

He ignored my comment and ranted on, "-Even suggested that I date Italy and my brother-"

"Hey, you were meant for each other."

Embarrassment and disgust blended together in the perfect visage. "Exactly." The blond stolidly looked at me, demanding answers. "This is not like you Seychelles," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I noticed across the cafeteria was Belarus, scowling at our straight display.

Bitch, get your own German anime bishie.

A heartbreaking glint danced in his ice blue eyes, reminding me of all those cheesy GermanyXReader inserts I read in my free time. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

In my defense, I was wholly prepared to give him the break up speech. The entire "we're just not getting anywhere" with the "it's not you, it's me" speech. But karma has a way of coming and biting me in the ass.

Now it's time for the "Guess the Next Sucky Event" Game! Did:

A) Sadiq appeared out of nowhere and confess his love to me

B) France slithered over and ask me out to the prom

C) The jackass revealed himself to be M. Night Shyamalan

D) Anti-Sex Advocate Pangaea yelled at us to get a room

The answer? None of them! No, I just did that so that you wouldn't be rolling your eyes when I told you that Hooker-Sherry returned. That's right, Seychelles's back in control!

Against my will, I found myself leaning up and lightly brushing my lips on Germany's. Deep inside of my mind, I was screaming for myself to stop. "_Stop it Seychelles!" _I yelled, mentally throwing every curse at her. _"I don't want to fucking kiss him!"_

"_Deal with it," _Seychelles's voice snapped. _"It's my life and I wouldn't have you ruin it." _ If I had control of my body, I would have physically reeled back. Holy fucking shit! Since when was she able to talk to me like this?

"_You can talk to me?" _I demanded, thinking about scowling deeply. However, on the outside I was sweetly flirting, "There's nothing to be worried about, dear. I love you; you're the best thing that could have ever happened to me." Yuck, corny.

Slowly, like a fading picture, I started to feel my limbs again. The nation's voice grew softer in my head as her will started to disappear. "_Only . . .when I . . . take . . ." _She was gone before she could finish.

As I sat in the art room, scrapping another terrible drawing, I replayed those events in my head. Before I could take any of Seychelles's words back, Prussia had strode over to us, calling his younger brother heartless for eating Gilbird's cousins. Then school started and I had to depart for class.

"_So Seychelles can talk to me when I turn into a hooker," I_ thought, moving my pencil across the white paper. _"Why is that strangely fitting?"_

My pencil moved shakingly across the paper, trying to create the shape in my head. Why couldn't the African's hands be as dexterous as mine when it comes to drawing? They may be small and really soft, but that does nothing for me.

Then again, the soft part was probably from my constant usage of shea butter enriched lotion. God, I love that stuff.

I didn't glance up when Estonia took the seat in front of me. "What are you doing Seychelles?" the nerd asked, gently placing his laptop in the table. There was a quizzical glint in his eyes. I ignored him. "Do you want any help?"

I gave him a 'you've got to be kidding me' look. What computer nerd had decent drawing abilities? "No."

"Well-" He laughed nervously, trying to salvage the situation. "Can you at least tell me what you're drawing?"

Before I could answer, someone came to my rescue. Nonchalantly, Sadiq shoved Estonia out of his chair and stole the spot for himself. I winced and checked to see if he was okay. "You're really sucking right now," my mentor said, taking my attention.

Immediately, I searched for a response. "I'm, um. . . "

I watched as his eyebrows furrowed together. For a second, I saw the image of my feet hanging three stories high in the air. I shuddered. "Step up your game," he ordered, the end bell sounding. "You only have until tomorrow." He rose, raising his hand into the air. I could not help but to flinch, half expecting him to hurt me. Instead, he just scratched his ear, unaware of my strange behavior.

Slowly, I calmed my quickened heart. My irrational side was getting out of hand. I needed to get out of there. "I know," I said hurriedly, gathering my stuff together. Everything was shoved carelessly into Seychelles's bag. I ran out, calling out my goodbye.

As I weaved my way through the labyrinth of students, I thought I heard him call my name.

It only made me run faster.

Technically, I should be in the cafeteria, eating lunch with the other straighties. But, like I've been doing everyday this week, I started to make my way to my dorm. There, I would go onto Seychelles's computer and look you YouTube videos. On what? Howcast videos on how to get a boyfriend and draw anime.

"Seychelles!" I paused, recognizing France's voice. As he strode towards me, I wondered why he would be looking for me. Besides the obvious answer of me being his daughter.

The gorgeous man smiled silkily as me, wrapping me into a fatherly hug. I stiffened. "Where are you going?" He asked, pressing his warm cheek against mine. "I haven't heard from you in a while."

"_Play it cool Sherry. Be suave." _I did my best to smile, saying, "I've been busy." Wow, that was actually a good reply. Well, there's one thing I did right.

France held me an arm's lengths away, giving me that fatherly concern my own father should be giving me. I mean, seriously? How many months can you spend in the Middle East just reporting things? Doesn't it ever occur to him that there are some people who miss him?

Ahem, sorry about that. That was a little off topic.

"What have you been doing?" he asked. Beautifully (because everything a French man does is sparkle worthy), he winked, adding, "I hope you and Germany haven't been going to the next base."

. . .

. . .

. . .

What?

Stunned, I barely listened to him as he ranted on. "I wouldn't be mad or upset if you two were. I just want to make sure you're using the right kind of protection." A rather thoughtful look painted his visage. "Truthfully, I prefer condoms, but some ladies that I know find them rather uncomfortable. I know that England thinks does. It might be better if you use the pill-"

And I'm going, "Slow down!" His voice fell dead, his eyes giving me a humored look. "We're not having sex," I explained, feeling the sweat drop down my forehead. "You're daughter is still a virgin." At least, I hope she is. I mean, the Seychelles I met didn't seem like the whorish type.

I think.

France chuckled. "Of course you're not."

Sighing, I adjusted the bag on my shoulder. "Right." I didn't believe him. "I'll be going now."

The father just didn't drop the subject. "Not just yet." he said, motioning for me to come back to him. Like a normal teenager, I dragged my feet back towards him. Placing his hands his hips, he said, "I want to know what's bugging you."

His concern left my jaw useless. The blond was worried about me? I was about to start blushing when I remembered the England incident last cycle. "_Don't get excited yet. It could just be because he's your father." _

I took a long breath. Then again, Dad never did anything like this for me (mostly since he was _always _gone). I made my resolve and told him the censored version of the truth. "I've been practicing how to draw," I said, voice on rocks.

His face was locked on neutral as he processed my situation and made a solution. "How about I teach you?" I raised an eyebrow. What? "After all, I am the country of art." Can't argue with that.

I couldn't help but to grin zealously. "Really?" I sounded like a child in a candy store.

That Frenchman nodded."Of course, my dear." He flashed an award winning smile. Wrapping his arm around my shoulder, he started to lead me away. "We can start now."

Willingly, I followed him down the halls, not minding his flowery presence. A remote corner of my head warning me to watch for wandering hands, however, his hands stayed outside the bathing suit area. That figures- he's my 'dad' after all.

We went to the perfect place to draw. It was full of inspiration and liquor.

This place was the bar.

During school hours, the place was rather empty. Bartender Pangaea greeted us cheerfully, drying a crystal glass with a blue striped rag. Like every time before, I noticed Italy drinking at the bar, sighing depressingly. Besides him, the place was mostly empty.

We took a seat at one of the many wood tables. "How well can you draw?" France asked, taking out a blank sheet of paper from his notebook. I took out my own and draw a lopsided stick figure. Butterflies committed kamikaze against the walls of my stomach. I was afraid that he would crack up laughing. If the blond did that, then there would be no stopping me from crying my heart out.

But he didn't.

Calmly, the elder nation nodded. "We need to go back to the basics," he said, turning to a new page. "Let's practice drawing straight lines."

For the first few minutes, I did nothing but draw lines across the paper. It was as if I was ironing wrinkled clothing- every time I ran the lead over the paper, my lines grew smoother. "You got it!" He declared happily, joyously clapping his hand together. He allowed me to enjoy the applause before slowly dying down. "Let's try something a little more complex," he suggested. "Like a circle."

I couldn't help myself.

"Draw a circle, there's the earth!" As I smiled triumphantly, he knitted his eyebrows in confusion. I know, every single Hetalia fangirl does it, but the moment was so perfect! How was I going to let that one slide? Face it; every one of us has done that at least once in our lives.

Back on topic, France shook his head, muttering something about his daughter being crazy. "Yes, like the earth," he said. Like a teacher, he tapped his finger on the paper. "Come now, give it a try."

Slowly, I made my best circle. How did it turn out, you may ask? Well, when the blond saw it, he smiled weakly. "That's the most unique curved line I've ever seen," he said, sounding a little hopeless.

In return, I lost hope. "I know, it sucks," I sighed, hunching my shoulders. This was like every time before: I would get so close just to drastically fail. "I'm never going to get this."

My father shook his head, quickly hushing me. "Don't say that," he said, taking my hands in his. He moved his chair closer to mine. There was no space between us. He was so close, I could smell the French cologne on is pale neck. "Here: let me help you."

He directed my hand and pencil over the paper, drawing an ever perfect circle. But I wasn't paying attention. Instead, I was focusing on the content look in his blue eyes. There was a certain glint to them, one he didn't have around England. One (or so it seemed) reserved especially for me. "There." He released my hand and looked at me. Our faces were close, really close. The tips of our noses were lightly brushing against each other. I was blushing, but he didn't seem to notice. "That's how you do it."

I'm going to warn you about something: I'm going to sound like a hopeless romantic. I'm going to seem like a Mary-Sue. I was going to do something really fluffy, yet incredibly stupid at the same time.

Because at the moment, it just felt right. I just wanted to kiss the Frenchman. I wanted to have his slobbering tongue inside of my mouth. Just as I started to lean my face closer to his, another really bad thing happened.

Guess who decided to show her face again?

"_You are not going to kiss my father!" _Against my will, Seychelles forced my body away from him. Basically, I fell out of the chair and painfully on to my ass. Freaking bitch! I was _this _close!

France jumped out of his chair and to my assistance. "Are you alright?" He asked, lifting my back to my feet. "What happened?"

Even though the cowardly bitch was no longer in control, I knew that I couldn't just tell him that his daughter possessed her own body. So I did the most logical thing: lie. "I sneezed," I said, sorely rubbing my buttocks. God, that freaking hurt. I was going to kill her later.

The blonde laughed just as the school bells tolled. Lunch was over- I lost my chance. "We'll try this again later," he said, packing his things. Another award winning smile appeared. "You did marvelous."

I busied myself with shoveling everything back into my own bag. I couldn't help but to blush again. "Well, I try."

"See ya!" Bartender Pangaea called out, waving us out of the bar. France and I merrily traveled up the stairs, conversing about the next time we could meet. We re-entered the world of school halls and bid each other goodbye. He had Math, I had science.

As I watched the nation walk the opposite way from me, mingling into the crowd of migrating students, I couldn't help but to feel lighter. That wasn't so bad- I might actually be able to do it this time.

Apparently, Sadiq thought so too. "That was perfect." I jumped, yelped, and hit the man behind me all in one move. Cold sweat drenched my back when I realized that it was Sadiq, clutching his nose tightly. "The hell, Seychelles!" He cursed, swearing in his native tongue. A few people glanced nervously at him before quickening their pace. "What was that for?"

"You scared me," I replied, trying to add an edge to my voice. It didn't work- it came out too soft. "What did you expect me to do?"

He rolled his eyes, slowly releasing his face. To my credit, his nose only looked bruised, not broken. "Be happy!" He snapped back. To my surprise, he didn't sound angry. In fact, there was an excited tone to his voice. It helped me relax. He wasn't mad at me; he was not going to hang me out a window. "You actually did a good job flirting with him," he said. "You had him blushing."

"Blushing?" I replayed the whole incident in my head. "I don't ever remember making him- wait! Were you watching me?"

"Of course I was. I do have a stake in this," The Turk nodded proudly, grabbing my arm. To my surprise, it was a little gentler than I remembered it being. "Let's go- we're going to be late for class."

As Sadiq dragged me to our class, I could not help but to feel confused. I actually did something right? And by doing something right, I was making Sadiq happy? A ball of joy condensed in my stomach. I did something right for once!

And he was proud of me for that, right?

* * *

**Cycle 2: Thursday**

Like before, Liechtenstein wanted to get ready with me. Unfortunately, since I was not allowed to actually go, I had to turn her away. The sad, melancholy look pretty much made me want to commit suicide. How could I live knowing that I did something like that to my girl crush?

I found it weird, just sitting in my dorm at eleven o'clock at night, in my white night gown, eating a bucket of Ben and Jerry's while watching _Howl's Moving Castle. _God, I love that movie. Christian Bail as Howl was the greatest thing to happen since sliced bread. But I was not able to fully enjoy it. There was this constant nagging at the corner of my mind, telling me that I should be at the prom, further seducing a certain blonde man.

Then again, it could just be because Sadiq gave me an earful when he discovered that I would not be able to attend. "Find a freaking way!" He had yelled, looking ready to strangle me. With that, I quickly lied and agreed. Still, he further harassed me about it until Poland called him away to get ready for the prom himself. Moments like those made me love the cross-dresser.

Even so, I was still here, doing nothing but making Seychelles fat off of delicious ice cream. God, I hate this! And I was so close too! If only-

"Yo! Seychelles!" My door burst open and in strut America and Denmark, my favorite idiotic blondes. Both of them were dressed in fancy, yet wrinkled suits. I could not help but to stare at them, mouth hung open with the spoon still inside. What?

The men looked around before slamming the door shut. "Can we use this place?" The Danish one asked, giving me accolade worthy puppy eyes. Oh man, he looked so cute. I even got that goofy awed look on my face to prove it. "America lost his key and we need a place to fuck." And there goes the cuteness.

"No!" I jumped to my feet, feeling pretty pissed off with them. "You are not having sex in my room," I said, marching over to the door. I threw it opened and pointed to the hall. "Now get out."

America looked ready to cry. "Aw, c'mon! Can't ya just let us use it for an hour or so?"

I pressed my lips and resisted the urge to smack them silly. "Hell. No."

Both of them groaned. I groaned as well. I should not have to tell two people that they couldn't use my place as a sex chamber. I mean, if anyone was going to have sex in here then it was going to be me (hey, I have to put all those lemon fan fictions to good use). Stomping my foot, I motioned at the door, telling to get their asses moving.

Neither of them left. In fact, America flopped himself onto my bed and claimed my ice cream whereas Denmark stole Sadiq's usual chair. "Why aren't you at the prom anyways?" the Nordic asked, picking at his ear. "Isn't that something girls like to do with their boyfriends?"

Again, I groaned and closed the door. There was no way I was going to force them out now. "I was banned from it," I explained, sitting crossed-legged on the floor. "And I told Germany to go enjoy it without me." I didn't mention the fact that I slyly suggested that he also hooked up with Italy for the night.

America took Texas off his face and held to up to the light, saying, "I still don't see what the problem is. Ya can just sneak in, can't ya?"

I shook my head. "No I can't."

"Why?"

I was I little ashamed to say it, but there was a stubbornly curious look in both of the men's eyes. "Switzerland." The very idea of having his A-K 47s at my face was not a very pleasing idea for me.

"I say go anyways." I gave Denmark a crazy look, giving him cause to explain, "We're supposed to be teenagers right now. So our bosses can't blame us for breaking some of the rules. That's just what teenagers do, right?"

"Hell yeah," his friend agreed, stick a mouth full of chocolate yumminess in his mouth. "We should be doing drugs and drinking illegally."

Their motions swayed me. They were right- that is what teens usually did (in the stereotypical sense anyways). I wasn't one to break the rules, but at that moment it didn't matter. I jumped to my feet, ecstatically saying, "You're right. I should go anyways." I ran to my closet and pulled out Seychelles's blue dress. "What time is it?"

Simultaneously, the nations pushed up their sleeves and looked at their watches. "It's five minutes until midnight." Shit to the freaking shit.

Using the speed of light, I ripped off my comfortably pajamas and threw the dress on over (I didn't care that I had two watchers- they were both slutty gays). I skipped the make-up and bid them a hasty goodbye. It wasn't until I was running down the hallway did it occurred to me that the two were now just going to use my dorm as a makeshift hotel room.

But there was no time to think about it, I had to get down to France and . . . and what? As I ran down the eerily dark hallways, I silently cursed my stupidity. What was I supposed to do then? Confess my love, kiss France, and pray that he returns my feelings. _"Well do you have any better plans?" _An annoyed part of me asked. When I didn't answer, it laughed at my face and told me to do it.

Well let's just hope that Hooker-Sherry doesn't come back and ruin everything again.

The next thing I knew, I painfully ran into someone. The ends of my dress ripped and a strike of pain shot through my chest. "What the-"

"I'm sorry, eh!" The person lifted me back onto my feet. Growling, I dusted my dress and looked my hindrance in the eye. He looked a lot like America, but there was something off about him. Something weaker . . . "I wasn't watching where I was going," the man said. "I was just looking for my brother, eh?"

I raised an eyebrow, repeating his words. "You're brother . . . you mean America?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah him. Have you seen him, eh?"

"No I haven't." Okay, what was I supposed to do, tell him that his brother was having an affair with a smoking hot Nordic. If I heard Jerry was doing that, I would- hold on. "Wait. Are you Canada?"

The greatest look of happiness known to man came upon the man's face. "Yes I am!" He softly exclaimed. "You remembered me!"

Iwillnotmakea'whojokeIwillnotmakea'who'jokeIwillnotmakea'who'jokeIwillnotmakea'who'joke-

"Who?" I know, sue me. The temptation was just too great.

Just as his face became downcast, I checked the nearest clock. That just happened to be outside the window to the bell tower. The clock face and illuminated a soft yellow, declaring the time clearly for me. I had barely thirty seconds left. I sighed. There was no point- I missed it.

"Never mind, I gotta go," I said, sounding obviously down. I started to head back to my room. "See ya-" I tripped over the skirts of my dress. I landed on my neck. The pain of my neck breaking was unbearable, causing me to cry out loudly. The bones essentially pierced something inside of me since I felt myself begin to bleed from the inside out.

For the longest thirty seconds of my life, I laid on the ground, coughing as I felt my lungs fill with blood. The red liquid would spill from my mouth with each breath. Canada joined me at my side, softly asking if I was alright. Idiot. . .

Weakly, I looked up and out the window. The second clock hand inched forward, pointing directly to heaven. At last, the midnight bells tolled. Suddenly, the colors around me softened. I lowered my head on the cold floor and felt my world spin.

I muttered a "shit" before feeling myself become lost in the blackness.

* * *

**Cycle 2: The Void**

"So you failed again." I gave Seychelles an unamused look as she gazed at me critically. I was back in the darkness, standing in front of the bane of my existence. It was exactly the way it was before: me in my pajamas and her in her blue dress. The African rolled her eye and folded her arms over her chest. "I can't believe you messed that one up."

I winced, feeling a headache come on. "I know I did," I hissed, thinking about the scolding Sadiq was going to give me. "Thank you for stating the obvious."

The girl didn't stop there. Instead, I watched as she paced in a circle, complaining loudly, "How could you have screwed that one up? I practically gave you England on a platter!"

"I wasn't going after England," I snapped, feeling myself heat up. "I was-"

"Going after _my _papa." Seychelles rubbed her temples as if she was also facing the serious head pains I was. "If you did the smart thing-"

I shouted exactly what was on my mind. "Who the hell are you to judge me?" Pissed as shit, I marched right up to her and pointed my white finger into her face. "You just throw yourself at every single guy you meet!"

Snarling, my finger was swatted away like a bothersome fly. She glared at me, eyes shaded with fierceness. "I am not a whore," she growled. "If you could see how stupid you are-"

I threw my arms into the air. "I'm the stupid one?" I cackled like an insane witch from those old nostalgia movies. "Well excuse me for not being educated in the ways of the slut." Before she could lash out at me again, I started my own pacing, rambling on to myself. "Because you're just fucking perfect. You know, I bet you're just enjoying yourself right now, laughing at everything mistake I make. Tell me, are you enjoying yourself?"

Unlike me, the nation started to chain down her temper. Giving a long, irritated breath, Seychelles said, "I'm not enjoying myself."

"Likely story."

Her eyebrows furrowed together. "I'm serious Sherry," she growled. Hearing her call me by my name eased my temper long enough for me to actually start paying close attention to her. The girl looked old, tired even- hopeless. For the first time, I noticed the way her shoulders slouched in defeat she added, "I didn't mean to bring this on. I . . . you probably don't want to hear it."

Monsters of guilt gnawed at my conscience. I was starting to feel regret at my words. They may be the truth, but the truth did hurt. Biting my lip, I slowly lowered myself onto the black ground. "Yeah, I do," I said softly, my legs criss-cross-apple-sauce. All my body's owner did was stare at me with an open mouth. "C'mon, you have an explanation and I want to hear it."

Seychelles continued to stare for a moment longer before regaining her composure. "I just grabbed the wrong laptop," she started, fixing her eyes to her shoes. "I was in a hurry to leave class and I grabbed the wrong laptop. It looked exactly like mine so I didn't even notice. It wasn't until after dinner when I was in my room did I realize it. I did the wrong thing and I started snooping through all the person's files. It was . . . strange. There was a file on everyone at the school. At first I thought it was Pangaea's, but then I saw my own. It stated that I wasn't popular with 'the fans'- that I had a whole fan base bent on hating me."

She sighed, her voice turning into a painful drawl, "I didn't understand what it meant. So on that same computer, I used this alternate version of Google and googled myself. It must had been an alternate universe's internet since I saw that me and everyone else at this school was part of this series called 'Axis Powers Hetalia'

At first, I was really curious- excited even. I just looked up more and more until . . . I saw people commenting on me, saying that I was a slut. Saying I was flat, unoriginal, an arrogant bi. . ." Seychelles trailed off, wiping a few silent tears from her eyes. In a votile yell, "They don't even know me, yet they're nick-picking at everything 'wrong' with me! I can't help to be this way! I . . ." Her voice turned into a loud sob.

I watched awkwardly as she buried her face in her hands, crying thickly. A small, unidentified feeling bubbled in my stomach. I felt as though I should say something, anything to her. But I could only open and close my mouth dumbly, trying to find my voice. "Seychelles, I. . ."

The nation looked up, calming herself. The whites of her eyes were as red as my hair. She loudly sniffled, gathering her story again. "I was mad. I was _so _mad. In a spout of anger, I just wished for _one _person- _one measly person_ to just take it back. To just admit they were wrong."

I inched forward, actually getting into the story. "And?"

Seychelles looked shocked at my urging. Tongue tied, she stumbled over a few inaudible sounds before finally saying, "I shouldn't. He'll just. . . "

Really? You just told me most of your life story and you weren't even going to finish? Strongly, I ordered, "Tell me."

Sighing, she looked back at the ground, saying nervously, "I . . . I was then in this room. It was nothing but white- except for a window at a door. There's only black on the other side." I noticed the haunted, distraught look in her eyes. "I was the only one there, yet there was a voice, offering to make that wish come true at the price that I had to one day pay him back. I was so stupid, I just agreed without thinking. And that one hater I wished for just happened to be you."

She took a long breath. "And now I'm watching you try to be me. I guess I got my wish . . ." Full of regret; she took a seat on the ground, embracing her knees. Stressed was the only way I could describe her. I didn't know what to think. Should I feel sorry for her? Angry that she brought this on me? "I wish I never did it," she whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear. "I wish I never took that laptop. Then maybe Turkey wouldn't be doing this."

I looked at her, confused. "Turkey?" I repeated, tilting my head. "What do you mean by that?"

The girl bit her lip. "I shouldn't," she muttered, shaking her head weakly. "You'll just-"

I was getting really annoyed with her conflicted feelings. Determinedly, I crawled on my knees to her. I roughly took a fist full of her dress collar and yanked her forward. It occurred to be that I was being as abusive as Sadiq, but I ignored the thought. "Tell me," I demanded, shaking her slightly.

She looked up at me, large eyes shining. When the words tumbled out of her mouth, I wished I never heard them. "I think Turkey was that voice," she told me. "I know he's in on this, but the only explanation I can think of is that he is that voice I heard."

Sadiq's . . . the jackass? I stared at the ground, processing her words. It made sense. Too much sense. Why else would he be harassing me about getting that kiss if he didn't have something to gain. Of course, that would mean that that something was Seychelles's debt, but I didn't know anything about his plan.

It was possible.

"_I'm so stupid," _I thought, simmering with frustration. _"And to think that I trusted him." _In my musing, I didn't realize that the girl before me was fading away until I was falling

and falling

and falling

and falling

a

n

d

. . .

. . .

* * *

**MW**: Well this was an okay chapter. The only scenes I really liked were the France and Seychelles ones, but I love them so much that I think this chapter was worth the wait.

**SEK**: Azul, por que no puedes hablar otro idioma? Se que estabas estudiando italiano, pero todovia no puedes hablar... Si podias, quizás tu poder hacer un AN in tu misma idioma!

**MW**: For the last time **SEK**, Spanish and other foreign languages will not be allowed in the AN.

**BFTL**: ちょっと**SEK**を見て！私は別の言語を話すよ！

**MW**: *facedesk*

**SEK**: Y como siempre, revise por favor!

**Funfacts**

"Fransexual" I will quote myself if I want.

"Dreamland" The story about the book being defected actually happened to me. To this day, I still have no idea whether the girl got out or not.

"We should be doing drugs and drinking illegally." Here at BFTLandMWandSEK, we do not embrace such activities. We do, however, find it hilarious.

**Next Chapter: **Cycle 3 starts and Sherry must deal with the idea of an evil Sadiq.

****REVIEW AND MAKE MY BORING SUMMER ENTERTAINING!****


	6. Descent into Mary Sueism Part 1

**MW: ***leans back in chair, smoking cigarette* Dude, I love this chapter.

**SEK: **Wolf, you're underage. You shouldn't be smoking.

**MW: **Meh, fine. *extinguishes*

**BFTL: **Guys! Look at the review count! It's nearly at 50!

**MW: **Really? Dude, this calls for some beer!

**SEK: **No, you're underage!

**MW: **Gr, fine.

Anyways, thank you everyone for your support and such. In this AN, however, I would like to take the opportunity to appreciate a reviewer. He calls himself **Pimp with a chainsaw. **He's special because he figured out the reason I put the crack pairings in the story! *applause*

He wrote: "_[The crack pairings helped] Sherry find out that not everything in her favorite series can't [be] the way she wants, including not all of her OTPs are not there… Most of the pairings don't make any sense, but [she] still needs to accept it as it is."_

Now, the reason I'm bringing this up is because I want to bring something to everyone's attention: this story is a microcosm. That's a fancy word meaning that everything in this story represents something in the Hetalia fandom. Not everything for my little symbolism has been revealed yet, but start thinking about it peeps.

Anyways, remember to drop in a precious review!

**Chapter Summary: **Sherry befriends a certain side character which leads to a surprising turn of event.

**Warnings: **Strong Language, Sexual References, Yaoi, Talk of Suicide, and OCxCannon

**Disclaimer: **I own Sherry and that is it! I wish I owned Sadiq, but I'm not that lucky.

* * *

**~Chapter 6~**

**Descent into Mary Sueism Part 1**

"_Korra and I are perfect for each other. She's strong, I'm strong. She's fun, I'm fun. She's beautiful, I'm gorgeous!"_

**-Bolin from the Legend of Korra, an American TV show**

* * *

**Cycle 3: Monday**

The ear killing sound of Lady Gaga's music reached my ears. Groaning, I sat up and hit the alarm clock. _"Sadiq's the jackass," _I immediately thought, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Already, my head was throbbing from a developing headache. _"Holy crap, he's working against me." _

"Good morning Sherry." My eyes shot open and I saw the very bastard I was thinking about sitting in his usual spot. He looked like he always did, except his pink tie was replaced with sparkling pink bangles. I felt a shower of cold sweat drop down my back. What was I supposed to say?

"_Say nothing," a_ slightly reasonable side of me said. _"Don't let him know that you figured it out." _ My lips pressed together and I stared at him with wide eyes. Say nothing; I could do that.

Sadiq waited for a moment longer, expecting a reply. When I didn't, he slowly raised an eyebrow. "Right . . ." Even his voice sounded confused. Clapping his hands together, he tried brightening his composure, saying, "Well I was right. You're plan to be yourself didn't work. What do you have to say for yourself?"

I bit down on the inside of my cheek. Sherry, you are not going to say anything. Not a word. Be as silent as Ariel.

When I- once again -didn't say anything, the Turk wiped the smirk off his face and coughed. "Of course you knew that," he muttered. Again, I mimicked Snake-Eyes (Oh man, I love G. ). "I didn't see you at the prom last time," he said, attempting control over the situation. "Did you run into any trouble?" Silent as Egypt. "Did you die early?" Never going to speak.

Sadiq stared at me for a long moment. My shoulders tensed. I expected him to punch me or start screaming at me to speak. But he didn't. I watched as the man stood and moved to the spot right by my bed.

He bent onto one knee and placed a sure hand on my leg. As the sun's morning rays grew stronger, he looked down at the floor, thinking to himself. When he finally spoke, it was not what I expected. "Sherry . . . did something happen?" He slowly asked, refusing to meet my eyes. "Did anyone hurt you? Say anything to you?"

By now, I was dying to tell him about my conversation with Seychelles. I just didn't know how to deal with the information she gave. Sadiq would- he would tell me that she was lying and that I shouldn't even bother with her. _"But isn't that what the bad guy does?" _I thought, pressing my lips until they were red. "_Manipulate the hero into thinking those kinds of things?" _He-he, he'll kind of be like Loki to Thor then. God, I love that movie.

He continued, "You can tell me anything, Sherry. I trust you and I want you to trust me-" And now this was just getting awkward. "-So please, is there anything you need to tell me?"

At the point, it would be cruel to leave him hanging. Like that 'Hang in there' cat. That poor feline, forever idolized for hanging on a string of rope. Gathering my words, I did my best to sound firm. "I'm fine. I-" Crap! Sherry, think of a lie! "-Just feel bad for not . . . um, breaking the 'FrUk' up?" I had the worst poker face.

If the Turk heard the question in my words, he didn't let on. Instead, he nodded, rising to his feet. "Alright then, I was just a little worried." From his pocket, he drew forth that cursed pocket watch. Whatever was on his mind distracted him from properly shielding its face from me.

Like every Victorian watch, the face was a creamy white. The numbers were written in a thick black cursive. The clock hands told the time to the minute. But I noticed an extra hand. It didn't move, only pointing straight at the three. "_What the hell is that for?" _I wondered.

"I want you to eat breakfast this time around," he told me, clicking it shut. "And please, try to take this seriously. I want this to be the last time we have to go through this, okay?"

With just enough sass, I threw my blankets off and slid out of the bed. "If you want me to get my ass moving, then get yours out of here," I snapped, strutting to my closet. Don't let on that you know. "I'm not about to have breakfast in my pajamas."

My obvious change in demeanor was reassuring. Sadiq smirked, taking his sweet time to reach my door. "Alright, just get yourself down there." He opened the door and took a single step out. "Oh, and Sherry?" He turned to me, giving me a very serious voice.

In an equally serious manner, he said, "This time, break-up with Germany. He's dragging you down." Sweat dropped down my back. Oh no. I opened my mouth, ready to object, when he cut me off. "And if you don't, I'll hang you out the window."

He fully walked out. "Get it done _today, _Sherry." Then the door was closed firmly behind him.

I stared at where he used to be. Not the window again . . .

Ignoring his previous order, I flopped back onto the bed, buried my face into my pillow, and screamed.

* * *

**Cycle 3: Monday**

"And you're consulting me about this why?" I hugged my books closer to my chest, doing my best to keep up with the Baltic. It was just after Language Arts and I was supposed to be heading off to the student council room. So far, my day has been going pretty well. I was able to eat breakfast, I attended all of my classes, and I made no new enemies. The only problem has been Germany.

I see him everywhere now. Every time I do, I could feel Sadiq's amber eyes demanding that I break off ties with him. The problem? I kept on chickening out. Every time I would boldly approach him, read: to break his heart, I would freeze up. It wasn't the return of Hooker-Sherry (thank the heavens!), but me being a priss.

Just take a break from reading this, Google his hard, constipated face, and stare at it. Would you have the guts to tear out _that man's _heart and stomp on it?

If you do, then you are obviously suicidal. Go get yourself some help.

Like a therapist or something.

Because if I know one thing it's that suicide is just bad for your health.

Anyways, this was why I came to consult the most socially awkward person I knew: Estonia. Giving him a light smile, I explained, "Because you are a nerd and nerds always know more about these kinds of things than most popular people do."

The blond, avidly playing an intense game of Angry Birds, didn't even bother looking at you. "That's one screwed up train of thought, Seychelles," he said, rolling his eyes. In return, I rolled my eyes at him. Wow, really? "But if you want my advice, I think that you should tell him the truth."

Finally, some progress! Even if it's going to do me no good. I mean, it's not as if I could just say 'hey, I'm a fangirl possessing your girlfriend's body so I'm going to break up with you'. I might as well add a 'and while you're at it, go hook up with Italy and make those other fangirls shut up'. Yes, because that worked so well the last time.

"Do you have any suggestions what I should say?" I asked, grinding my teeth together.

Estonia sighed and flicked another bird at those stupid pigs. Die pigs! Die! "Tell him something sappy," he suggested, pushing his glasses farther up his nose. "Like 'it's not you, it's me' or 'we're not going anywhere.' You can even say, 'I'm tired of derping around like-'"

"Wait!" I paused in my steps, clogging the whole hallway in the process. Students cursed at me and walked around, telling me that I was an idiotic bitch (that Seychelles is). The nation stopped and glanced back at me. In a serious manner, I asked, "Did you just use the word 'derp' as a verb?"

Again, he sighed. "Yes, I did. Is there a problem?"

I bit my lip and walked a few steps closer. I ripped his hands from his phone and held them in mine. I bent onto one knee and said, "Estonia, I officially love you. Will you marry me?"

Something about my display was repulsive. Mimicking barfing, he ripped his hands away, calling me a freak. I couldn't help but to laugh to the point of rolfing. By the time I had some dignity back, he was gone and I was late. Like always.

I hurried down the wood halls to the student council room. Like last cycle, I banged my fist loudly on the door, announcing my presence to the whole world. "Give us a minute!" England called out. I stood there patiently, smirking to the sound of them scrambling away from each other.

Oh, the yaoi.

"You can come in now!" Still grinning, I opened the door to the same scene as always: the two men with ruffled clothes, sitting on opposite ends of the table, sorting through their stacks of paper.

A small voice in my head told me to be cautious. _"If you see the same scene over and over again, you're going to go crazy," it_ warned. I gave my usual greeting and took my usual chair. I didn't believe it- this wasn't freaking HetaOni.

You know, I used to love the name 'Steve'. It was to the point where I wanted my child to be named that. Then- of course -the Italy fangirls had to name the gray bastard that. _"Which is absolutely splendid," I_ thought sarcastically. _"Now they'll tell me that my child can't marry Liam Neeson." _

Long story on that, but I need to return to the plot.

"How has your day been, Seychelles?" England asked, as he evened a stack of white papers.

I smiled and scanned over my own. They were the same as always. "It's been fine," I replied absently. What the hell was I going to do about Germany . . .

France smiled and scribbled something on a yellow notepad. "Has Germany asked you to the prom yet?" he asked, smiling for whatever reason. I really didn't want to know why- him being France was enough of a warning for me. "It would be a shame if that dress of yours went to waste."

I laughed nervously, unconsciously drawing circles on the papers. If the Germany situation wasn't there then I would be obsession over my lack of artistic mastery. "Well about that . . ." Okay, this may not be such a bad thing. These two were masters at romance- their help would be a blessing from the fan fiction gods.

Carefully, I placed my pen down. "I actually intend in breaking up with him today," I said, grimacing at the very thought.

France and England exchanged stunned glances. Neither of them said anything for a long moment. All conversation was between the glints in their green and blue eyes. At last, both of the men rose and took the two seats surrounding me.

"Coming out as straight is a very hard thing to do," England gently said, rubbing his hand on my back. I felt a blush creep up my face. "To date another straight person is as equally challenging. But to break up is a difficult quagmire."

France nodded in agreement, adding, "My little bunny and I-"

"Don't call me that," England snapped, turning a deep shade of red.

"-Fully support you in your decision. But do your papa a favor and let him off easily."

I leaned into the Frenchman's shoulder. He smelled like cologne roses. It made me want to gag. "But I don't know how to do that," I said.

The man slyly smiled and offered his two cents. "Just tell him that what you two had was great when it lasted," He said. "But your heart must go on to other lovers."

His boyfriend rolled his eyes and smacked him behind the head. "Stupid git, this isn't a Celine Dion song!" He groaned, furrowing his iconic eyebrows. Switching his demeanor to that of a warming parent, he suggested, "You should just tell him the truth. Germany is a mature man and will not take it badly. But if he does, just remember to be the better man- woman."

I slowly nodded. That was two completely different messages. Which one was I supposed to use? Suddenly, France was pushing me out of my chair and to the door. "My dear, you shouldn't waste any more time. Go tell him now!" He ordered, shoving me into the hall.

A surge of panic pricked up my skin. Oh shit. I dug my heels into the wood and braced my arms on the door frame. "No!" I screamed, trying (and failing) to stop him. Even with all of my efforts, my heels still slid out of the room and into the hall. "You can't make me! England! Help!"

"You're on your own with this one," was the Brit's simple reply. Fucking bastard, he made this seem like a bloody tea party.

Somehow, France summoned the power to push me out the door and into the hall. I stumbled onto my knees, cursing every foul word I knew. The door was closed shut behind me before I could even move.

It's official: I hate blondes. I wish every blond on this planet would just die.

There goes half the Hetalia cast.

Frustrated, I banged my fist on the door, yelling, "Damnit France! Let me in before I-"

"Seychelles?" Shit. Lord save me. Like a deer in headlights, my eyes shot to the German running down the halls to meet me. My immediate impulse was to run for my life.

"_Stay where you are," _I ordered myself. _"Sadiq's going to kill you if you don't." _And besides, if I run I might end up in another M rated classroom. That was not going to be pleasant- unless if it's another yaoi scene. Mmm, yummy.

Germany dashed up to me, worry in his face. "Seychelles, are you alright?" he asked, cupping my shoulders with his large hands. "Why are you screaming out here?"

I could imagine France and England pressing their ears at the door and snickering at me. I scowled, silently ordering them to stop and go have sex or something_. _Coughing softly, I shrugged the man's hands away. "Nothing's wrong," I told him. "But I do need to talk to you."

He sensed the serious tone in my voice. His eternal frown deepened and he shifted his feet. "What is it, dear?"

I winced. This was going to be harder than I thought and I already believed that this was going to kill me! Damnit, I am not Bella! I cannot just smile, be perfect, and flounce my way through this.

Looking down, I gave a long sigh. I remembered last cycle where Hooker-Sherry prevented me from doing this last time. _"Seychelles, you need to let me do this," _I thought, praying that she heard me. _"When this is all over, you can hook-up with him again, but now I need to get Germany away."_ Of course, there was no response.

"Seychelles?" The blond's voice drew me back to the real world. His icy blue eyes seem to ask me 'what's wrong? Why are you acting strange?'

I closed my eyes. Here we go. "We've been together for a very long time," I said, taking long breaths. "We've had a lot of great times as well, but my heart has just moved on."

"'Moved on?'" He repeated, giving me a blank look. "What is that suppose to mean?"

"Um. . ." Stupid Hetalia fan cannon and making his oblivious to love! Damn you "GerIta" writers, this is entirely your fault! "Um, my feelings for you have just changed." Another blank look. I tried to be nice, but it looks as though I'm going to have to be blunt. "I'm breaking up with you, Germany."

It was like that moment in The Legend of Korra (if you guys haven't seen any of the latest episodes yet, then skip over this little reference filled paragraph) when Korra hooks up with Mako. You could literally see Bolin's heart being ripped out, thrown onto the floor, and stomped into the pitiful tears of obsessed fangirls. Except this wasn't half as funny.

No, instead Germany's face fell into a pit of despair. "What?" His voice sounded so small. "You . . . found someone new?"

"Uh, no." Over ten years of school experience left me and I added, "But don't be surprised if I find a new boyfriend soon-"

"I knew it!" Germany took a large step behind me, giving me a horrified look. "You only dated me out of pity! You never loved me!" This was breaching uncharted lands. I had no idea what he was talking about."

"_I knew I should have broken up by text," _I thought darkly. Some strange part of me wanted me to _at least_ make Seychelles seem less than a bitch than she actually was. Awkwardly grinning, I tried my best to salvage the situation, saying, "No, I did love you. But-"

"Then what did I do wrong?" He demanded.

"You did nothing wrong. It's not you-"

"Then who is it?"

I wanted to groan. "It's me, damn it! I can't be with you anymore!"

Germany roughly grabbed my shoulder. There was a crazed look on his face. It scared me. He shook me, loudly demanding, "Why? Damnit Seychelles! Why can't you be with me?" His grip on my shoulders tightened into a blood pausing pressure. Wincing, I felt one of his hands move to the back of my neck. That was where Sadiq always grabbed me to hang (or threaten to hang) me out the window.

A flash of uncontrollable fear shot through me. "Help!" I screamed, struggling under his ever strong grasp. France and England were just in the other room - they should be able to hear me. "Help me!"

The problem was that someone else did.

"Hey! Stop it!" A man called. The next thing I knew, I was being ripped away from Germany and cast aside. I landed hard on my butt and yelped. What the hell? I looked up and saw my savior.

For some reason, the great fan fictions gods sent Iceland to my rescue. If there was a single word I could use to describe this guy, it would be 'cool'. Like seriously, the combination of his silver hair and blue eyes made him resemble snow in a Gauken Hetalia uniform.

Germany glared at him, spitting, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I could ask the same thing to you," the other replied smoothly, his signature puffin tucked safely under his arm. I didn't know much about him- I wasn't a big fan of the Nordic 5. My lack of fangirl knowledge scared me. "Why are you hurting your girlfriend?" he continued. "Germany, this isn't like you."

"I could say the same to you," the other snapped. "Butting your head into other people's business isn't your thing." My wide eyes shot between the two men. What the hell was I supposed to do now? Intervene? Let them fight it off?

Iceland scowled. "I heard screams for help. That is all. Now get out before I tell Russia about this."

Actually, I think Bella mentioned this guy to me before in one of her big rants. She used to be in love with the Nordics and cosplayed as Finland. I remembered her telling me that Iceland and Russia helped each other out financially at one point of time. All I can really say about it is that it was enough for the two to be shipped together.

But Russia was dating Holy Rome, so I guess here they were only friends.

I watched as Germany's eyes flickered between me and Iceland. I crawled back a few feet, trying to make myself as small as possible. At last, his eyes rested on me. "I still love you, Seychelles and I want to know the truth." He closed his eyes and took a long breath. "I'll be waiting for you." He started to walk away, brushing by my spot on the floor. In a voice only loud enough for me to hear, he added, "Or, at least, I'll try to."

Iceland glared at him as he went, pressing his lips into a tight line. All I could do was watch his retreating figure. What did that message mean? Either way, I just prayed that I wouldn't have to do that again. I just wanted the worst to be over.

"I thought he'd never leave," Iceland said suddenly, regaining his monotone type cool. He turned half way towards me, fully taking in my presence for the first time. He gasped a single "wow." His blue eyes looked larger than normal and a small tint of color flushed his face. "Um. . ."

Rolling my eyes, I ignored him and tried rising to my feet. _"Weirdo," I_ thought, wincing at the ache in my butt. I think my tailbone was bruised.

My Nordic rescuer sprang to life. He took my hand and pulled me onto my feet. "Are you alright, Seychelles?" he asked glancing over my body.

I brushed him away. "I'm fine-"

"What happened?" I stared at him. Was it just me, or did he asked that quickly? Like I'm-greatly-concerned-for-your-safety quickly?

"I was breaking up with him," I explained awkwardly, adjusting the strap to my bag.

Iceland's face came to life. "You actually broke up with him?" he repeated, sounding too happy for my comfort.

My brain scrambled to find a somewhat decent comeback. "Well, um-"

_BOOM~!_

Iceland wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pushed me to the ground. Even with my hands covering my ears, I could feel the bullet as it passed by my head. "Get away from her!" Switzerland ordered from the far end of the hallway, reloading his gun.

We looked up and gave him a crazy look. "Why?" My continued savior demanded, tightening his hold around me. Seriously, what was up with this guy and saving my sorry ass today?

The blond marched over to us, saying, "I heard her-" the barrel of his gun was pointed at me. "-screaming for help. Now step away from her before I blast your brains out!" Barely a foot away, he grabbed the Icelandic's collar and pried him away from me.

Dangling a few feet in the air, Iceland dropped his puffin and raised his hands in defeat. He nervously defended himself "Switzerland, I mean Seychelles no harm. This is all one big-" The metal barrel was jammed under his chin.

"Not another word from you." The other growled, cocking his gun.

By now, I was pretty much done with this bullshit. Knitting my eyebrows, I rose to my feet. Sounding as angry as I could, I said, "Iceland didn't do anything-"

"Get your cheese smelling hands off of him, jackass!" For once that day, I was thankful for Sadiq's sudden appearance. From the opposite direction, my mentor stormed down the halls, looking ready to commit triple homicide.

Iceland smiled grimly. "Hey there Pops," he said. "It's been a while." He nodded in acknowledgement.

His enemy frowned and only held his captive higher. "Get out of here, Turkey," He snapped. "This isn't your problem."

Sadiq's scowl only grew deeper. "The kid didn't do anything," he repeated, a low growl in his voice. "So drop him, jackass."

Switzerland pressed his lips together for a long moment before dropping him. Iceland landed on his feet, immediately taking his puffin back into his protective grip. The blond man continued to glare at the Turk, threatening, "Don't get too cocky yet, Turkey. The moment you screw up, I'm going to be waiting there with a smile and a beating of a lifetime."

"That is, if you can catch me." I nodded in appreciation. Damn, Sadiq had some good comebacks. I wish I could come up with some witty things like that.

The Swiss man swung the gun's strap over his shoulder with an anger _swish~! _He left almost determinedly, giving him the bird as he went. When he turned the corner, I gave both of the remaining men a sheepish grin. "Thanks for that. I just-"

The Arabian ignored me and focused his attention on addressing his fellow nation. "Iceland!" He practically squealed, wrapping the man in a bear hug. His nature reminded me of one old friend greeting another. This is exactly how Iceland responded. He returned the man-hug and patted the other's back, greeting him as "Pops". I sat the dumbly, trying to figure out what was going on.

This wasn't a crack pairing- I knew that. This . . . this was cannon bromance. Remember in one of the Christmas strips how all of the nations were disappearing? Remember the two main characters for that mini-adventure? That's right: Sadiq and Iceland.

"How have you been doing, kid?" My mentor asked, breaking away from their man embrace. You know, with all the hugging these two were doing, I might be tempted to ship them.

Might.

Iceland gave a small smile and held his puffin closer to his chest. "I've been fine, though what on earth made you decide to talk to Switzerland?" The Turk's amber eyes shot to me. His friend's blue ones copied him. "Pops, you're a friend of Seychelles?" he asked, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed. "I didn't-"

"We're not friends," I said quickly, giving him a serious look. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the approving nod of the Turk. Woot, I did that right! Score one for me! "Just acquaintances."

He immediately perked up. "Really? That's-" He coughed, dropping the zealous look on his face. Trying to act suave, he corrected, "That's, um, surprising." I peered at him. What in the world made him change so suddenly?

That was when I noticed Sadiq's narrowed eyes. They observed the Icelandic boy carefully, piercing his way through the other's mask. Did I miss something? Why was he suddenly acting so hostile? Iceland didn't do anything wrong . . .

"Right." My mentor looked away and out the hall window. The sun was sinking below the horizon, tinting the sky an orange hue. The bells of the clock tower tolled, singling an hour until dinner. If tonight was like all the other Mondays, then it was taco night. Yummy, tacos. "I'll see you both later," the brunette said, running his hands through his hair. His pink bangles jingled with him.

I took it as my cue to get my butt moving. "I gotta start my homework, so I'll-"

"I'll walk you to your dorm," Iceland volunteered, taking my arm and leading me down the halls. He still sounded like his bored self, but there was a feel of- what is it? -eagerness to him.

I was forced to agree. As I was led away, I could not help but to glance behind me. Sadiq's worried eyes were concentrating on his watch.

* * *

**Cycle 3: Tuesday**

I yawned and inched forward in the morning breakfast line. It was nice to be up, but it still felt too early. After being stuck on a static walk with Iceland, I stayed in for the rest of the night doing homework and watching _Howl's Moving Castle. _Damn History Teacher Pangaea and assigning a paper on the War of Jenkin's ear.

Said woman (though here she took the title of 'Cafeteria Lady') placed a plate of pancakes on my tray. Under my breath, I thanked her and continued to sing the world's greatest song: _"We want your trousers- your breeches, your chaps. No, you can't get these pants from shopping at Gap. Their service sucks . . ."_

Yes, "Leather Pants". What? It was an amazing song! In matter of fact, I love all of LittleKuriboh's Lady Gaga parodies. If you haven't watched them yet, then you have no right to call yourself a nerd.

After pouring a crap ton of maple syrup on my meal, I scanned the cafeteria for a place to sit. My already few options were cut tenfold. My usual spot with the other straighties was out of the question. Germany was still mad at me and I highly doubted that his brother and his girlfriend would be very welcoming. Sadiq would not let me sit with him and Poland. He would just tell me to sit by France and England whom weren't even up yet (late next sex, eh?). There was no way in hell I was going to resign myself to sitting next to Estonia.

Swallowing, I resigned myself to sit at an empty table. I was an outcast, shunned by society like the cowboys of the west. Like a wolf, I will live off the land and the products of my own strengths. I was aloof, defiant - a loner.

I claimed my seat and chowed down on my food, still singing the lyrics softly. _"Me and Bakura, we will have our revenge. Him and me will take your leather pants . . ."_ You know, moments like these made me wish that I could talk to Liechtenstein or Bella.

If the big deal I gave about my loner status wasn't a hint enough, I would just have to state this clearly: I hate going outside the crowd. I'm sorry if you guys thought that I was some sort of individual, but I need people to surround me. I will be a total weeabo weirdo only if I have people to do it with me.

"We need to talk." I paused and looked up. Prussia stood across from me, inviting himself to sit. For once, he looked and sounded serious.

It made me hesitate for a moment. "That's seat's taken," I said, cutting away at my meal.

"By who? Waldo?" Prussia rolled his eyes at me. Damn, that was another witty comeback. I need to start writing these down so that I can use them later and claim them as my own. The albino stared at me for a long moment, demanding my attention. "What the hell do you think you're doing Seychelles?" he demanded.

I swallowed and mimicked his look. "What do you mean by that?" I asked, staring into his crimson eyes. They looked so cool. I wish I was a hot albino.

He drummed his fingers on the table, frowning to himself. "You know exactly what the awesome me means," he replied hotly. "You breaking up with Germany. What the hell were you thinking?"

No, not this again. Glancing around him, I saw Sadiq observing from his table. His head was resting on his palm and he was only half listening to Poland ramble on about something unknown. My eyes pleaded for him to come save me. When he only shook his head, I was forced to reply, "I was thinking that I was no longer happy in that relationship. I have a right-"

Prussia loudly banged his hands on the table. "He was talking about jumping off the bell tower again!" he yelled, practically inviting the whole school to eavesdrop on us. "Do you really want that?"

"_Jump off the bell tower again?"_ I wondered, staring with large eyes. What in the world was he talking about? Why would anyone want to do that? Unless. . . It hit me like a blue shell on Mario Kart. "_Holy crap, Germany's suicidal."_

My mouth refused to work. I tried forming some sort of excuse, but my words were muddled. Seychelles was dating a depressed guy? What the hell? I can't handle that! What the fu-

My stunned silence came off as defiance. Angrily, Prussia grabbed my shirt collar and yanked me forward. I was forced to stand and lean over the table to even face him. Not to sound sexual, but my boobs were right in my pancakes. Yeah, that was a pleasant image to have. Unless you were into echii animes. In that case, glorify the strange fan service I was giving you.

All around me, chairs were screeching with people rising to their feet. They knew a fight when they saw one. As I looked at the man in fear, I noticed Sadiq discreetly making his way towards us. It was not in the least bit comforting.

"Make this better, Seychelles," the Prussian growled, looking dead frightening. "I don't want my brother to talk about taking his life anymore. Do you even understand how un-awesome that is? I swear, if you don't-"

Someone grabbed my attacker's arm. It was Iceland, readily coming to my defense again. There was a slight snarl in his stoic face as he glared at him. "Let her go," he growled deeply. I could not help but to stare at him. Again? Why was this guy always saving me now?

Prussia smirked and released me. I lost my balance and fell straight on top of the table and pancakes. Great, now I had maple syrup in my bra. Feeling a slight ache in my chest and neck, I groaned and looked back at the men.

They were still glaring at each other, looking ready to beat each other senseless. Everyone was watching them now- even Germany and Liechtenstein. The girl's sad eyes met mine for a second, showing me nothing but disappointment. It felt like a sword had impaled my heart.

"This has nothing to do with you, Nordic," Prussia said cockily, glaring at him.

Iceland stubbornly shook his head. "You were hurting an innocent woman," he replied, looking smaller without his puffin. I wonder where the poor animal was now. "This has everything to do with me."

He stared at him for a long moment. Stiffly, I peeled myself off and sat on the table. "Do you really want to challenge the awesome me?" The elder country asked, cracking his knuckles.

Iceland took a second to size the man up. He was smaller and less muscular than him. If he were to win this fight, he would need brains. Not to say that he was stupid or anything, but this guy didn't have what it would take. Still, the silver haired man started rolling up his sleeves. "Of course I will," was his acceptance.

"Don't you dare start fighting in here!" Cafeteria Lady Pangaea shouted, marching her way to the fight. Like a flash mob, a crowd of students suddenly circled us. I noticed America and Denmark were holding the fat lady back, pushing her back to her counter. Oh shit. Switzerland wasn't here either- there was no one to stop the brawl.

Let's just say that the fight did not last long. I watched with growing dread as the men exchanged a few jabs, both dodging them equally. Iceland was surprisingly agile, moving out of the line of fire easily. But his strength did not match the brute force the albino had.

The second Prussia brought his fist down onto the Nordic's back, it was over for him. He cried out and fell to his knees, coughing harshly. I sat the table dumbly, too stupid to do anything about this. I really should have at least told them to stop. But I didn't.

I fucking hate myself.

Nonchalantly, Prussia reached down and grabbed the other's collar. He raised him into the air, saying, "You should have minded your own business; this was about me and my awesome brother and no one else." He raised his fist, ready to bash his face in.

The next thing I knew, Iceland was ripped from his grip and tossed to the side. In amazement, everyone watched as Sadiq smoothly lifted Prussia over his shoulder and slammed him into the ground. "Leave the kid alone," he snarled, freaking axe kicking him in the stomach.

I slammed my hands over my ears when I heard his victim howl. "Stop it!" I shouted, jumping off the table and throwing myself into the middle of the fight. Hell, I was not about to let the bad guy have his way with the side character. Yeah, Prussia did hurt me, but he was doing it for his suicidal brother! That had to count for something.

I made to grab his raised arm, when someone took my own. I paused and saw Iceland holding my hand, shaking his head gently. "Let Pops handle this," he told me. The sound of the Turk ramming his fist into the other's face made me shut my eyes close.

"Can we go?" I asked, trying to block out the noise. Still, I heard the nations whooping for Sadiq to kick Prussia's ass. I could even hear Poland's flamboyant encouragement, warning him to be careful. It was sickening.

I felt Iceland curl his fingers into mine. "Of course." I let him me through the crowd. Like Moses and the red sea, he navigated his way between the students, muttering apologies as he went. There close proximity only made me feel more nauseous. It felt like a eternity had passed when we were finally out.

For a few moments, I took slow, long breaths. My head was throbbing and I felt winded. "Are you feeling alright?" the silver haired man asked. Concerned, he placed the back of his hand over my forehead. "You feel a little warm."

I stared at him. Seriously, what the hell was up with his constant concern for me! Can't he just leave me alone? "I'm fine," I spat, swatting his hand away. His blue eyes went wide as he slowly released me.

The school bells tolled and I took my opportunity to escape.

* * *

**Cycle 3: Tuesday**

I sighed and took a bite out of my sandwich. From the top of the bell tower, I watched nations converge outside and socialized with each other in the quuad. I was actually fine with being up so high as long as my feet weren't over the edge. Like at that moment, they were criss-crossed-applesauce and I was a safe five feet from the open air. Any closer and I would panic.

I could really go through everything shitty that has gone on in my day so far, but after spending another period doing nothing but _attempt _to draw, I really didn't want to.

So instead, I'm just going to give you the lovely class scroll:

_History: _Turned in my fail paper and got berated by History Teacher Pangaea for having a maple syrup covered shirt. Sadiq showed his face. He didn't acknowledge me.

_Math: _Failed again at sine and cosine. Then I had to learn what tangent was. People once again commented on my Canadian spoiled outfit.

_PE: _We had to run. And Lichtenstein wouldn't talk to me. I had the chance to change my shirt, but the sweet substance was still at my boobs..

_Art: _Once again faced with my anti-drawing dilemma. Sadiq and Poland were too busy flirting with each other to even notice me, so I was stuck talking to Estonia again.

"_I freaking hate this," _I thought, taking another large bite. You know, when I wasn't being forcibly tied to the pillars, it wasn't so bad up here. The breeze felt nice and it was secluded. Plus Sadiq nor Iceland wouldn't think to look for me up here. God, I just really wish that those two would leave me alone.

But I still had to think about how I was going to get France and England in my little hands. There had to be something so incredibly romantic that both of them would turn straight. I took another sip from my water bottle. What if I just flashed them . . .

"Sherry." I jumped and turned to see Mr.-I-Like-To-Abuse-My-Associates standing in front of the trap door. My heart was thumping loudly against my chest. How the hell was he so quiet?

I watched the man look around, running his hand along the monstrous bells. _"How did he find me here?" _ I wondered as he slowly meandered his way to me. There was a cool, appreciative look on his face. _"Does he have some sort of tracker on me?"_

"What are you doing up here?" he finally asked, taking a seat next to me. Subconsciously, I scooted a few inches away from him. If he noticed, he chose to ignore it. "I would think that you hated heights."

I nibbled at my food, trying to think of a good response. It was not as though I could flat out tell him that I was avoiding him. It occurred to me that I could tell him that he was the reason for my heights phobia, but I decided against it. That would just make him anger. Unfortunately, that left me with no no choice but to mumble, "I was, um . . ." Whatever, I'll just change the subject. "How did you find me?"

He sighed and leaned back a bit. His green hood fell off his head, revealing his curly brown hair. And that single, defiant curl that would make his hormones go nuts. I wonder what he'll do if I tugged on it . . . "I followed you here," he explained. My mouth dropped. Saywhat? He gave me a confused look, saying, "What? You haven't noticed yet? Wow, that's . . ." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"So what are you doing up here?" he asked again. I opened my mouth. "And do not change the subject again." I closed it. Damn him.

Looking down to the corners of my eyes, I shrugged. "I don't know, I-" I paused, remembering something. "Sadiq, why didn't you tell me that Germany is suicidal?" I asked, growing a little fierce and changing the subject anyways.

He shrugged. "I didn't think it was important."

"Yes it is!" I scowled and inched closer to him. Angrily, I jammed my finger into his chest, saying, "That kind of thing is extremely important!"

He raised his volume to mimic mine. "It was an unnecessary distraction! You would have felt guilty-"

"Well I feel guilty now-"

"-and I need you to concentrate at the mission on hand-"

"-You just fail-"

"If you would listen to anything I tell you-"

"You don't listen to anything I say either!"

"That's because you refuse to accept my help!"

"And hanging me out a window is helpful?"

He angrily pressed his lips together. "Seychelles, I . . ." This time, I waited for him to reply. For five seconds, he did nothing but glared at me. Then he released a thick, heavy breath.

And he kissed me.

.

.

.

Before all you anti-OC fangirls start flipping out on me, I need to defend my place here. When I said he kissed me, it was kind of an over exaggeration. What he did was actually much worse (I think I contradicted myself there).

What he did was that he cupped my cheeks with my hands and drew himself forward. The thumb farthest from the trap door slipped itself in front of my lips and he kissed it. In much simpler terms: a stage kiss.

My eyes were wide open and his were closed. My ridged body wouldn't move and my system was on overload. What were the exact words going through my head? Well, I'm glad you asked. _"Holy fucking shit, what the hell was happening? What the hell is he doing? Why is he doing it? Oh my God, does this mean I'm a fucking Mary Sue? Fuck! God, this is so much shittyer than when Germany did it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"_

At last he pulled away, a soft, fake smile on his lips. His eyes flickered to the trap door, revealing a terrible truth. Iceland was standing at the base of the door, looking stunned and horrified. In his hand, he limply held a bouquet of roses. For a long moment, Sadiq and I just stared at him. He just stared back.

Remember that moment in Legend of Korra I mentioned earlier when Bolin had his heart ripped in half? I'm going to bring it up again since IT HAPPENED AGAIN! You could literally see the tears slowly fall from his eyes. I could hear his heart shatter into itty bitty little pieces. Without a single word, the Nordic turned on his heels and ran down the stairs.

His roses were trampled in the process.

"What the hell!" I screamed, slapping Sadiq across the face. The man rolled his eyes and allowed me to make contact. His lack of response only made me feel more frustrated. I yanked my hand away and stood, demanding, "Why the hell did you do that, you bastard!"

"Because it was necessary." Sadiq made a disgusted face and spat on the floor. "Damn, I feel like such a straightie" he complained. "I got to go fuck Poland or-"

I stomped my foot. "You broke his heart!" I yelled. Hastily I glanced at those poor roses. Those were meant for me. Oh God, ten bucks he was going to ask me out or something. Fucking. . . "Damn it! I hate you!" I ran after Iceland, scooping up his flowers as I went.

Quicker than the speed of light, I ran down the stairs, calling out his name. I was not going to break his heart. I was not going to be Larry, breaking Jerry's heart with his homophobia. I was not going to be Dad.

"Iceland!" At last, just as my foot touched the bottom step, I found him. He was sulking in the corner, hugging his puffin to his chest, silently crying. I slowed to a stop and stared at him. Okay, what do I do now?

Biting my lip, I held out the dead roses for him. "I got your flowers," I said softly, trying not to sound guilty. Damn Sadiq, causing all of this. "They're really pretty-"

"Since when was Pops straight?" Iceland asked suddenly, a small sob in his voice.

I dropped my shoulders. "Turkey's not straight-"

"Then why was he kissing you?" The Nordic's voice was at a full fledge yell. I watched as he determinedly wiped away the tears. His blue eyes cut right through me when he asked, "How long has this been going on?"

I shook my head, saying, "Nothing's been going on between us, and it's just-" I stopped dead in my tracks. I could tell him about everything. I could gain an ally. I didn't have to be alone in this.

Iceland pushed forward. "It's just what?"

Taking a long breath, I eased myself on to the bottom step. I carefully patted the spot next to me, inviting him to join me. For a moment, he looked ready to deny, but instead the man stiffly accepted it. I stared at the ground, taking long breaths. "I'm not Seychelles."

He gave me a confused look. "What?"

Slowly, I told him the whole story- everything from my mission with France and England to my visits with Seychelles. I left out her theory about Sadiq; I didn't not want o ruin his image of 'Pops'. Multiple times, I thought that said man was going to come marching down the stairs and break the party up. But he never did. For the longest time, it was just me and him.

When I finally finished, Iceland was silent. "Do you believe me?" I asked. My heart was wild with fear. What if he thought I was crazy? What if I screwed this one up?

Taking my hand in his, he nodded, absorbing it all in. "We're the personifications of geographical locations," he told me. "What is there not to believe?"

* * *

**Cycle 3: The Room**

Turkey testily drummed his fingers in his knee. Why now of all times? This was the worst time to talk to that monster. That stupid girl was upset and was bound to do something incredibly stupid. He needed to be there to make sure she doesn't screw everything up. "_And we were so close last time," _he mourned silently, feeling stiff in his starched clothes.

The room was as it always was: the same glossy white and single chair. There was, however, one small difference. At the eternally locked door, the window was open. He had checked out there earlier to see nothing but a void of black. A perfect juxtaposition to this strange white world.

"My, my, Turkey- Aren't we just a little bit desperate?" He looked up, growling under his breath. He could just hear the smirk on the Voice's face (if it even had one). "Kissing your colleague?" It said, chuckling lightly. "Turkey, I might be a little bit jealous."

He clenched his fist into a tight ball. _"He's only trying to screw me up," _he told himself, grinding his teeth together. Taking a long, painful breath, the Turk growled, "Cut the crap, jackass. What the hell did you do?"

"Do?" The Voice flat out laughed. "There are so many things I've done. You'll have to be more specific."

Turkey stared stubbornly at the glossy white walls. He was determined not to lose his temper. "Iceland, straight." he said, spelling out each syllable. "Attracted to Sherry. You did it."

"How do you know that?" It asked. "Iceland might have always felt that way-"

He found himself yelling, "I know the kid! He's into bestiality and loves China's panda! He told me himself!" He sat there in his chair, panting lightly. Great, he was already yelling. Damn that godforsaken jackass.

The Voice laughed again. It was deep and echoed around the room like thunder. "Then you should have no fear," it replied. "Your partner will stay on task-"

"No, she won't." Turkey stood and paced around the chair. He concentrated his gaze downward. His glossed reflection stared back up at him. "She's a teenage girl," he explained. "He's a teenage boy that's showing interest in her. The moment she realizes it, she's going to just throw herself at him."

"What do you expect me to do about it, Sadiq-"

"Don't call me that, jackass!" The brunette was back to yelling. He stopped his pacing and banged his fist against the wall. The sharp thud traveled effortlessly across the empty chamber. "I expect you to keep to your promise," he yelled. "You can't-"

"But you broke your promise, didn't you?" He fell silent. The Voice sounded strong and final, as if it was losing its own patience. "Isn't that why we're here, Turkey? Because you couldn't keep your promise?" The Turk didn't make a noise. He stood stock still. His fist, still on the wall, clenched tighter. "Our deal had stated that in return for bringing him back to life-"

"I will serve you forever." Turkey finished, looking down at his reflection. For a moment, he seemed defeated. For a moment. "But-" He looked up at the ceiling. His amber eyes were blazing with unspoken defiance. "-I refuse to live the rest of my life as your slave."

The Voice easily replied, "I know you do. That's why, Turkey, I would like to offer you a proposal."

"I know better than to make another deal with the devil."

"This is no official deal. There will be no contract signing this time, just trust between two mutual associates."

Turkey scowled. Getting messed up with this guy was how this whole mess started. He didn't want to get himself tangled up even more. But he would be a fool not to accept this free card. Reluctantly, he returned to his seat, saying, and "I'm listening."

If the Voice found any pleasure in this, it didn't let it show. "It's very simple. You just stand back and let this young love take its course. And in return, I'll—"

"You will tell me what you're name is," The nation said quickly. Furrowing his eyebrows, he glared up at the ceiling. "Take it or leave it."

For once, the Voice had to think it over. All the while, Turkey sat in that cursed chair, picking at his white strached clothes. He really hated it here. He really hated everything that was going on in his real life. That is, if his existence was to be considered real.

When the Voice gave its answer, it was not what he expected. "Deal."

* * *

**MW: ***looks around innocently* Um . . . yeah . . .

**SEK: **Aren't you going to explain yourself Wolf?

**MW: **No, I'm too afraid of the fangirl's wraith. The only comment I'm going to make is that I wish I had a picture of that kiss. Please don't kill me!

**Funfacts**

**-"**LittleKuriboh" I'm surprised it took me this long to finally reference him.

-"Germany's suicidal" I mean no offense to anyone who really is.

-I ship TurkeyXIceland. One day, I shall write it. Not today, but hopefully soon!

**Next Chapter: **Part 2 and Iceland and Sherry's relationship blossoms.

****IF YOU ARE MAD AT ME, THEN YOU SHOULD REVIEW AND TELL ME.**

**IF YOU ARE CURRENTLY IN LOVE WITH ME, THEN YOU SHOULD REVIEW AND TELL ME.**

**IF YOU THINK I'M OVER REACTING, THEN YOU SHOULD REVIEW AND TELL ME**

**IF YOU THINK THIS IS ANNOYING, THEN YOU SHOULD REVIEW AND TELL ME****


	7. Iceland, You Cute and Sexy Little Thing!

**BFTL: **Hey guys, Blue and Sisko here with some very sad news.

**SEK: **Yes. By the amount of reviews Wolf received last chapter, her ego grew to such an enormous size that it killed her.

**BFTL: **Yes, so to commemorate this tragic event, we shall have a moment of peace. *moment*

**SEK: **But happier side of things, this means that Blue and I can now take over the AN!

****Sisko and Blue Rule the Fangirl AN!- Day One****

**BFTL: **Yeah, so what does Wolf do in these anyways?

**SEK: **Well she usually thanks the reviewers, makes a comment and a joke, and then just lets the chapter roll.

**BFTL: **Sounds easy enough

**SEK: **Eh, a lot of thought go into these. But lucky for us, on her death dead, Wolf wrote a message to her readers. It reads:

_Dear Readers,_

_Sorry that I have died on you. I had a computer scared last week (hence the late chapter) and it made me so weak, my ego killed me. Thankfully, the only thing lost was an hour or two of computer time. So chapters will be slower. _

_But on a happier note, I like how __everyone __in their reviews told me either their theories or shipping preferences. Oh, how I love making you guys squirm. But anyhow, I now know how surprising my plot twists are going to be and how many Sherry X Iceland (or Sherry X Sadiq) shippers I have out there. Yes, that was so part of my plan._

_But on a more serious note, I want to verify something. I'm not hating on anyone with this story. The microsom is being done in a self proclaimed style of John Steinbeck. For those who never studied him, his writings (like __Of Mice and Men__ and __Grapes of Wrath) __shined a mirror on society. It didn't necessarily tell the world what was wrong, but merely shows what the author sees. _

_The Fangirl __shows what I see in the Hetalia fandom. Not all of it is pretty._ _I can't really go into anymore detail without spoiling my plot, so I'm going to give you guys a few hints. There is more than one kind of fangirl. Sherry is the insane fangirl. Which characters represent the other kinds of fangirls? Hint: They maybe cannon characters._

_To make it fair, at the end of this story, I'll post a chapter explaining what everything represents. Deal?_  
_I'll try to come back later as a ghost, but until then, Je vous aimes~!_  
_-MidnasWolf_

_PS: Pimp with a Chainsaw, I must ask this: What the hell were you doing in a tux, writing a review?_

**Chapter Summary: **Iceland proves himself to be a very useful asset and, perhaps, something more.  
**Warnings: **Strong Language, Sexual References, Angsty Themes (including suicide), Yaoi, Yuri, and OC X Cannon  
**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but your souls.

* * *

**~Chapter 7~ **

**Iceland, You Cute and Sexy Little Thing!**

_"I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you." _

– **From the American Movie "Dirty Dancing"**

* * *

**Cycle 3: Tuesday**

"So that's the only amount of screen time I'm allowed?" Iceland asked, harboring a glass of beer between his hands. It was after dinner hours and we sat at the underground bar, chatting at the bar like old friends. It was as busy as it usually was with nations chatting and playing pool. There was a soccer match on the television and many of them were avidly watching it, rooting for their favorite players.

My Nordic companion, for some reason, was very interested in the idea of his very existence only being in an anime. I would had figured at least some denial, but no he was taking this was supreme ease. If I didn't know better, I would say that he already knew the truth about this world.

Taking a small sip of bitter beer, I nodded. "You make an appearance at the beginning and end of the movie," I told him. "But for the TV series, that's all you have."

His interest was completely renewed. "There's a movie?" He asked, trying to not sound as excited as he really was. He leaned in a little closer, asking, "What is it about?"

I couldn't help but to smile. You know, he was actually kind of cute at times. Not the least bit annoying like Jerry was. Whenever he grew cute, it was usually when he started whining about the bullies in his class. Then Larry would snap at him to shut up. That would start an argument and then they would grow annoying until Mom told them to be quiet. Tracing the rim of my glass, I explained, "Well it's called _Paint it White_, and it's when aliens-"

"What are you two going on about?" I stiffened as Sadiq took the seat to my other side. I hadn't seen him since our little moment in the bell tower. He didn't show for any of his classes for the rest of the day. To me, it was as if he had disappeared from the face of the earth.

Iceland calmly took a long drink. "We're just talking about movies, Pops," he said simply. I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God, he wasn't about to tell Sadiq the truth. "Has Sherry ever told it to you? It really is fascinating." I spoke too soon.

I flinched and felt his amber eyes glaring at my back. They were more painful than the stab wound Belarus gave me. This was not going to go over well. The Turk's lips drew themselves into a thin line as an annoyed breath left his nose. He rubbed his hands over his face, saying, "Bartender Pangaea, give me a glass of your strongest stuff." The plump woman quickly obliged, giving us wary looks. We were pretty much the only ones in that bar not either playing pool or watching the game. Maybe she heard Iceland and I talk about the movie; that was a reasonable cause for suspicion.

Apparently the 'strongest stuff' the woman had was just mixing beer, vodka, whiskey, moonshine, and a splash of wine in a shaken blend. It looked as disgusting as it sounded. Yet, the moment she slid it over to him, the man brought it easily to his lips and took a long swing. It was gone in one gulp. Iceland and I couldn't help but to jump when he banged the empty glass back on the counter.

"Sherry?" He repeated, simmering with unmentioned anger. "Iceland, where did you get that name?"

The silver haired one laughed nervously and looked to the side. "She told me what has been going on," he muttered, sounding as though he didn't care.

"_How does he stay so stoic?" _I wondered, taking a sip of my beer. It burned the sides of my throat. For some reason, I thought that if I drank it enough, I would grow fond of its bitter taste like everyone else on this planet. So far, it wasn't working.

Sadiq grimace, blinking rapidly. "She has?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the counter. You know that tone of voice an adult would have when they are really mad at their child, yet are trying to be gentle about it? That was exactly how he sounded. "Sherry, can I have a word with you?" He pretty much ordered it; already leaving for the loneliest corner of the bar.

I'm screwed.

Muttering a prayer, I reluctantly stood and followed him. It was the longest walk of my life. As I dragged my feet on the ground, the hanging poker lamps flickered. I felt like I was a rogue mafia member on death row. _"With what's in store for me, I might as well be," _I thought grimly, noting his calculating glare. It was as if he was trying to concoct the best punishment for me. My sweat glands were on full blast and the back of my neck itched. When I was standing (and trembling) in front of him, I had the worst possible situation worked out in my head.

He was going to beat me, then skin me alive, hang me out the window for a few days before bring me back to life. Why? So that he could do it all over again. God, I hate that son of a-

"Do I have to spank you?" I stared at Sadiq. He asked it suddenly, giving me a quizzical look.

I could only give him a confused look. "What?"

With a completely neutral visage, he easily repeated himself, "Do I have to spank you?"

"Um. . ." Seriously, what am I to say to that? It's not as if I can just answer yes or no. I definitely wasn't going to say 'yes' but answering 'no' could cause him to actually do it. I peered at him curiously. "Are you feeling okay?" I asked. "Did that drink do something to you?"

Sadiq's face grew sterner. "I can hold my liquor perfectly fine," he snapped, actually sounding a bit cross. "I'm just wondering how I can get a simple message to stick in your head." Okay, now he was starting to sound like his usual self. "Because no matter what I do, you never seem to learn. You weren't suppose to tell anyone about this!"

I gulped and rolled up my sleeves. Alright Sherry, today you were going to prove to the world that you weren't being abused. You were not a mat to be walked on. You are not like that girl from that stupid book! "You never said I couldn't," I replied sharply.

"It's common sense. You can't be going around and doing stupid things all the time."

Shinatty strike me down, I could not help myself. "Stupid things?" I asked."You're the one randomly stage kissing peop-"

He slapped a painful hand over my mouth. "Shut it!" He ordered, glancing around. Of course, no one was paying us any heed. "I did that because I wanted him away so that you didn't get distracted."

In a muffled voice, I snapped, "Mom mimsihg me hasm gmhng hmo cmmse mmy hsthacmioms?"

Unsurprisingly, Sadiq understood muffle. "I knew that you'll get over it," he said. "And here's the fact: the kid is all over you now and I need you to keep your head and stick to the mission."

"Morrechon, he mowkes Meymhelles hot me," I muffled

"He has that look in his eye," other replied easily. "If anything, but telling him you're not her only made you more desirable." Was he making these things up.

I gave him a blank look. "Mhy?"

Sadiq- because he's just an expert at love (bullshit!) -was more than happy to educate me on why. "You're different now. You're _exotic _even. And guys like a feel of individuality in a woman. It's like the blue eye mystery." (Now he was just rambling). "Having blue eyes gives a human no favorable genetic mutations yet it spread rapidly throughout the world. The most logical reason on why is because both men and women found the trait to be attractive. Why? Because it was _exotic. _Do you understand that Sherry?"

I gave him another incoherent reply. This time, he didn't understand me. With a confused look, he peeled his hand away.

Giving a blank look, I pointed behind him. "Boyfriend, twelve o'clock."

Not a second later, Poland came up behind him and tightly hugged his waist. "Like, Turkey! Where have you, like, been?" He cried, ecstatically hugging him. "I've totally thought that you, like, got mixed up in something sketchy!"

I watched with interest as Sadiq's face first became hard. Then it melted away into something softer, more welcoming. Smiling to myself, I passed by them both, wishing him good luck. If he had anything more to say to me, I didn't hear it.

Iceland was giving me a funny look as I returned to him "Was Turkey pissed?' he asked, ordering another glass of beer.

I took my seat and gave a small shrug, saying, "He'll get over it, though-" Smirking, I motioned to Poland's flamboyant hugging "-I think his boyfriend's going to make him forget."

The Nordic smiled, petting the puffin on his lap. That thing was so freaking cute! I just want to hug it and call it Frederick. "When he's with Poland, I've never seen him happier," He said affectionately.

As Bartender Pangaea refilled my glass, I shook my head. "I don't see why they're together. They're total opposites. It's cracky."

"I don't think so." I gave him an odd look. There was a knowing, content look on his face as he thoughtfully observed the love birds. "I just see two people who bring out the best in each other. When you have a relationship like that, conflicting personalities don't matter." His gaze shifted to me, as if suggesting something.

That's right, because he has a crush on me. Right. I did my best to ignore him and concentrate on our subject of conversation. The Turk was telling something to his lover, bringing forth a joyous laugh. There definitely was something softer about him. "I guess you're right," I said, turning back to Iceland. He was still lovingly gazing at me. "Sadiq does seem happier around him."

The man blinked. "Sadiq?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Why are you calling Pops that?"

A wave of nervousness shot through me. "Oh it's a nickname I gave him," I said. I bent over my glass, trying to hide my awkwardness. I was no fool to love; I knew how Iceland was going to take it. He was going to think that me calling the Turk that was a form of endearment.

Which was exactly what he did. The pale one bit his lip, thinking to himself. The dim lighting on the bar created a shadow over his face, blocking the upper half front view. "Can I have one?" He asked, his cheeks taking on a light red color. I raised an eyebrow. "Can I have a name like that, Sherry?"

Hearing my real name on his tongue made me blush too. It sounded different coming from him. He made sound as though it was a precious gem to forever be valued. It made me agree. "Alright, I'm going to call you-" Oh great, what was his human name again? "-Ari."

His blue eyes sparked with unfathomable joy. "Ari," he repeated, trying it out on his tongue. "I like it."

I couldn't help but to smile affectionately at him. Why did I find that so cute? I took a hand off my cold glass and held it out to him. "Well, _Ari,_ welcome to Team Sue," I said. "I hope you're good at ruining other people's relationships since that's a prized talent among our ranks."

Ari looked down at my hand, a cool look on his face. There was a sadness to him when I mentioned the relationships, but he quickly covered it up with a large grin. Largely, he took my hand and shook it. "Glad to be part of it, Sherry."

* * *

**Cycle 3: Wednesday**

"Hello Seychelles." In the middle of the hall, I paused and turned to see Liechtenstein a few steps behind me. Like always, she looked cute with her petite stature and air. However, a small frown pinned her lips and her blue eyes gleamed with sadness. "Can I talk to you?" she asked, hands neatly folded in front of herself.

Hesitantly, I looked out the large glass windows. The face of the clock tower read the time to be fifteen minutes after the end bell rung. I was already late for England and France's council work. As is the way of avoiding Sadiq's wrath, I should have politely declined and continued on with my life. But that pitiful look on her face was too much for me to bear. So I nodded, saying, "Of course you can. What is it?"

The blond bit her lip, debating on the perfect wording. All the while, I glanced at the clock, monitoring my time. "Why did you break-up with Germany?" she burst suddenly. Just as I jumped back in shock, she covered her mouth.

I continued to stare at her, thinking, "_Okay, how the hell do I get out of this one?" _An array of lies drifted into my mind- all less likely than the last. When I reached the idea of convincing her that it was because Germany was a vampire, I just said 'hell with it' and gave her the censored version of the truth (and that never ends well for me, so why do I still do it anyways?).

"He was bringing me down," I explained gently, slowly inching away from her. "There are things I need to do right now."

"What are they?" she squeaked. Sweat dropped from my brow. I didn't expect her to ask that and by her expression, neither did she. I dumbly made an 'ah' sound as I tried to figure out a way to reply to that one. Liechtenstein pressed forward, adding, "You have been acting strangely lately. Is there anything you need to tell me? I promise that I won't tell anyone else."

So people, what is the best way out of this? I didn't know. The only solution that came to my mind was to just get her to stop talking. And no, I was not going to slash her across the face (violent children). I was going to lash out with my words. Quicker than a cracking whip, I snapped, "I just don't want to freaking date him anymore! Is there a freaking problem with that?"

Liechtenstein flinched, making me regret my words. That pained look on her face was enough to make grown men cry. "I'm sorry," she whispered quickly, holding her hands over her face. It was as if she was trying to block any physical attacks I might deal.

Guilt gripped my heart. Oh man, what did I do? She looked so scared, like a Harry Potter fan in a Twilight movie. Trying to be comforting, I took a slow step towards her and reached out with my hand. "Liechtenstein, I-"

Surprisingly, she swatted my hand away. True, it was rather weak, but it left a clear point. Stunned, I stood open mouthed as the blonde's eyes darted around for a means of escape. There was a look of sheer panic in her eyes. Seychelles's friend muttered something about Prussia before running past me.

That just left me alone- speechless. "_Why did she look so afraid?" _I wondered slowly closing my jaw. "_It's as if she-"_

"Hey Sherry." I turned to see Ari coming from the way Liechtenstein left. There was a passive, but interested look on his face and his navy-blue blazer hung over his shoulder.

Forgetting the girl, I scowled at him. "Don't call me that in public," I hissed fiercely, checking the clock again. Oh man, I was _so _late. "If anyone hears-"

"We're fine; the hall's empty." Ari had the smallest of smirks when my argument fell to pieces. When my shoulders heaved in defeat, the Icelander asked, "So Sherry, what's the plan?"

You know, it was nice to have a guy that was supportive of you. Well, Sadiq is but he's a prick so we really can't say much about that. Yeah, and he's the jackass. How could anyone ever forget that? Actually- to make sure you remember -I'll repeat it again.

Sadiq's the jackass.

Giving a light sigh, I started walking to the student council room, saying, "Right now I need to get the 'FrUk' to break-up."

"What does 'FrUk' mean?" Ari asked, following close to my side. There was a small, cute tilt to his head.

"It's a fan term to describe France and England as a dating couple." We stopped in front of the large door. Speaking of 'FrUk', I wondered whether they had their tongues in each other's mouths again. The very thought of it made me smile a perverted smile. Either way, I snapped back to reality. "So do you have any idea on how to do it?" I asked him.

Ari didn't give it a single moment of thought. "Hold this," he ordered determinedly, handing me his blazer. I took a step back as he rolled up his white sleeves and messed up his hair.

Then, the most entertaining thing happened.

Without knocking, the Nordic banged the door open. As expected, the blond were having a moment. And by moment, I mean that England was sitting straddled on France's lap, his face totally uke-ified with France's hand in his unzipped slacks. Quickly, I covered my nose. I felt a nosebleed coming.

"France you cheating bastard!" Both of their faces read of shock and embarrassment as Ari angrily marched over to said man. He slapped him across the face, saying, "You told me that you were breaking up with your whore of a boyfriend!" At this point, I was starting to feel a bit sorry for France. He had the most confused expression on his face. And his British boyfriend was only looking more and more pissed by the second.

Still, the Icelandic man ranted, "I was a fucking fool to believe a slut like you! I never want to see you again!" Then he promptly slapped him again, turned on his heels, and marched out. There was a small smirk on his face as he slammed the door behind himself.

There was a moment of silence on both sides. On the 'FrUk' side of things, the men were in that state of processing what just happened. On my side of things, I was left in a stunned state whereas my friend was waiting for me to say something.

That was bloody genius (why didn't I think of that?). It was so perfectly executed- someone as flawed as me could never have pulled that off. Just when the noise of England yelling at France met my ears, I cracked up laughing. "That was amazing!" I exclaimed, handing Ari his blazer. "That . . . oh God, how did that even work?"

Ari politely chuckled. "All I did was light the fuse," he said. "Everyone knows they've been having relationship issues."

My ears perked. "Really?"

He gave me one of those 'you have to be kidding me' looks. "You didn't know that?" he asked. All I could do was shrug. He explained, "England and France have been in a strong relationship for a very long time now. Unfortunately, with every year, England grows more wary of France's wandering eye. He's always accusing him of cheating on him and being straight and stuff."

"Yeah-" The very Brit we were talking about busted the door open. Pissed as shit, he slammed it shut and stormed by us without as much as another glance. I noticed the glint the light made when it hit his tears.

I felt bad. This was more than just a ruined pairing, this was real life emotions. These were real people who were in a real relationship. And freaking shit, I just smashed it to pieces with a sledge hammer. As the sound of France pacing and cursing his idiocy passed through the door, I couldn't help but to look down in pain.

Ari peered at me for a second before jumping into advantage mode. He quickly cupped my cheeks and pointed my face upwards. Giving me the world's most loving smile, he asked, "Sherry, is something wrong? Do you want me to apologize?"

I shook my head. "No, I just . . ." Words failed me. Instead, I just shook my head. "The only thing left to do is win one of their hearts and get that stupid kiss."

I watched as the silver haired man looked down in disappointment. I knew why - freaking Larry could tell you why and he's God awful with relationships. Like Bella's stepsister has a total crush on him and he freaking friend-zoned her. Is that harsh or what? I feel sorry for the poor sap.

Amazingly, Ari once again caught me off guard. His expression cleared up faster than a mud stain with oxy clean and gained a goofy smile on his face. "I have an idea!" He announced, barely containing his excitement.

The ends of my lips curled upwards. "Well, what is it, Sherlock?"

The Nordic released me and started running down the hall, towards the boy's dorms. "Just be ready for the prom tomorrow night!" He called out. "I'll pick you up at 9, alright? Don't attempt anything until then!"

"Why?" I yelled back, but he didn't hear me. He had already turned the corner and was no doubt skipping down the stairs like a little girl.

I sighed. Some strange sane part of me told me that this was not going to end well. As per my instructions, I readjusted the bag on my shoulder and gave up for the night. I started my lonely walk to the dorm, muttering curses under my breath. For some odd reason, I felt as though someone was watching me. Correction, I could feel Sadiq watching me.

With that thought, I ran as fast as I could to my room. The minute I was inside, I locked the door and window.

* * *

**Cycle 3: Thursday**

It was nine on the dot when Ari knocked on my dorm door. I jumped from my spot at the desk and rushed to answer it. Like the previous cycles, I wore the elegant blue dress and styled my hair in the low, curly pigtails. It was a nightmare trying to replicate them, but since Liechtenstein was still upset, she didn't come over to help. I kind of deserved that one, didn't I?

Anyways, when I opened the door, I saw Ari dressed in a slick black suit over a blue dress shirt. The only possible word I could use to describe him was sexy. I mean, he was the downright definition of it. You could go on urban dictionary and he would be one of the examples.

My face flushed with heat when I saw him. Similarly, his turned a light shade of pink. "Wow, Sherry, you look great," he breathed, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"You look better," I replied, my eyes traveling down the length of his body. Oh Shinatty, so _sexy. . ._

Ari coughed, bringing his emotions under control. Stoic freak. "Well, um, I'm nothing compared to you." Before I could make another remark, he glanced at his watch. "The prom is about to start," he said. "We should be going."

Like a gentleman, he held out his arm for me. Feeling my cheeks grow redder, I hooked my arm with his. Our whole trip there, we were silent. That was lucky since I was giving myself the mental scolding of a lifetime. "_Sherry Agatha Sue, would you please get a hold of yourself?" _I demanded. "_You should not be getting all worked up over Ari!"_

"_But he's really sweet," _The hopeless romantic side replied. "_And kind. France and England could never do these kinds of things for me."_

I wanted to bang my head against something blunt. "_They're anime characters!" _I screamed. "_They all are awkward with romance! That's what makes a good OTP!" _This brought me to the idea of how they're all so perfect in reader insert stories. Like seriously, how is it possible?

If you know the answer, would you please give me a call? Please, this is killing me nearly as much as the shea butter question.

"Sherry, we're here." My friend's voice brought me back to reality. I would have to finish that self argument later. We were outside the school's ballroom. It felt like forever since I last been here. Like before, IT WAS FREAKING HUGE! The clock watching over the nations read it to be a little past nine.

Looking at it, I couldn't help but to gulp. As we entered the mob of people, I whispered, "Ari, what _is_ your plan?"

All he did was smile knowingly. "Dance with me," he urged. There was a calm soothing attribute to it. It was hypnotizing. I forgot about my mission. Surely, I could spend just a little time dancing with the man.

You know that little voice in your head that said do one thing yet you do another? Like when you see a tray of cookies. That voice tells you to eat just one yet you still eat the majority of them. Yeah, that little voice spoke in my head. _"Just for five minutes."_

Ari took my hand and led me to the center of the dance floor. In a convenient manner, the DJ switched the tune to something slow paced and intoxicating. He placed his hands on my hips and mine on his shoulders. We swayed with the crowd, just enjoying each other's presence. We didn't need to speak- the glint in his blue eyes was enough for me.

The songs changed and we never stopped dancing. Even when the beat was something from Ke$ha, we swayed to our own waltz music. For some odd reason, I was softly smiling. I didn't know why, but I couldn't stop. I was just so in love with-

Whoa, whoa! Hold it, Sherry Sue! You are not going to turn on the Mary-Sue switch just yet! Reconsider that sentence fast!

Fine.

I was just so in love with the 'FrUk'. Yeah, the 'FrUk' is good. Oh so deliciously good.

"Sherry?" I looked up at Ari. My face told him to be careful with my name, but my eyes wanted to know what he wanted. The Nordic hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "Are you happy here?"

I shrugged. "It's kind of hard to be," I answered. "But yeah, I guess I am." Why was this reminding me of that scene from _Beauty and the Beast_?

His blue eyes met my brown ones in a whirl of emotion. There was a hesitance when he asked, "What if I told you that I love you?" I stared up at him, mouth in a 'o'. Shit, I should have seen that one coming. I needed a lie!

When I didn't say anything, Ari desperately took my hands in his. "Because I really love you," he said. "And I don't care what kind of baggage you may have; I want to spend more time with you!"

Guess what? France was watching.

My God, France was watching the whole fluff moment.

Calmly, the blond clapped his hands together, ruining the tension between us. "Break it up!" He declared, entering father mode. He literally tore us apart, making sure that I was at least five feet away from the Nordic.

I gave him a confused look. "Papa, what are you-" I was promptly cut off by him snapping his fingers at me. I closed my mouth. That must have been the French way of ordering someone to shut-up. Pretty effective, don't you say?

Ari did his best to act innocent: trying to smile and sound as innocent as possible. Sweating a river of fear, he asked, "France, is there a probl-"

The object of our distress wrapped a threatening arm around his shoulder. "It's really no problem at all," he said, grinning evilly. "It's just that I find you dancing with my daughter right after you make up lies about me to England. I think it's about time you and I had a little chat."

From what I had seen in movies (not personal experiences), this is the part where the father threatens the boyfriend a long and painful death if he even tried to break the V-Wall. It was not going to be pretty. Sensing the atmosphere, I slowly inched away, abandoning my Nordic friend. Stealthy, I passed by the food tables, pouring myself a paper cup of punch. "_This sucks," _I thought grimly, taking a long drink. Immediately, I choked and spat it back into the flimsy container. _"Who the hell would spike the punch with vodka?"_

"I really hate how un-awesome you are right now." I jumped, noticing Prussia was suddenly standing by my side. Beneath his formal dress, there was an air of anger about him. Oh boy.

Uncertain, I grinned weakly. "How's that?"

The albino roughly placed his hand on my head and pointed my gaze at Ari. In nothing more than a growl, he explained, "When Germany saw you and Iceland dancing with each other, he un-awesomely ran out and now I have no idea where he is."

I admit, I felt a little bad for the German; with him being depressed and everything. "But what does that have to do with me?" I asked.

Prussia pressed his lips into a tight line. Anyone in a ten foot radius could feel the anger boiling under his skin. "He's a depressed man who's given up with his life," he said. "Think about it."

That's when it hit me faster than a soft ball during gym. Have any of you ever had one hit your face straight on? Let me tell you, there is nothing 'soft' about it.

A cold fear clenched my whole being as it dawned on me. Germany was going to attempt suicide again. I couldn't let him do that! If I did, then I was nothing short of being his murder. "We have to find him," I said, eyes already darting from the prom. So far, there was no obvious head of greased hair. "Where do you think he can be?"

If Prussia was glad for my help, he didn't show it. Instead, his crimson eyes retained its serious glint as his mouth curved in a frown. "I've checked anywhere I thought he might be. The awesome me is at a lost." So it was up to me now.

Biting my lip, I thought of every possible place. Above me, the bells chimed the time to be eleven o'clock. That was not a good number. "_Where the hell did all of my time go?" _It occurred to me that I should just let this cycle go, that way everything would just reset itself. But what if once Germany killed himself he didn't come back? And that would still mean that I killed him. No, I had to help him. But where the hell could he be? "Let's split up," I suggested. "You take this floor and I'll take the second story. I'll take the even floors and you can have the odds."

The albino nodded, quickly running off to his mission. I took a second to steal one last glance at Ari and France. The blond was still in the middle of his fatherly protection rant. Ari looked scared to death. It was best not to disturb them.

I ran out the ballroom and up the staircase. My head was reeling with panic. This was unlike anything I had ever dealt with before. No one tells you how to deal with a suicidal man. No one tells you how to deal with half the stuff I've been through already. Then again, Sadiq has been trying to guide me. Every time I reached a state of uncertainty or false security, he was always there to punch me back to reality. _"But that does nothing for me," I_ thought, pushing a door open. It was empty.

Feeling another wave of disappointment, I continued down the hall in a frantic search. Somehow, I started calling out his name. Maybe if he heard me, he would stop and come out into open. Of course, I had no idea what the hell I'll do after that, but that wasn't my main concern. I had to just find him. "Germany!" I called out, running even after. "Germany!"

Another voice responded, "Seychelles!" The only problem was that it was not the man. In fact, it sounded very much like a grown woman. Hesitating, I turned to see the last person I would have expected. It was Belgium, picking up her skirts as her blond curls bounced with every step.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, checking behind her for her psycho girlfriend.

The Flemish speaker smiled, giving off the air of kind maturity. "I came to help you find Germany," she explained. Okay, how the hell did she know that he was missing? Maybe it was my obnoxious screaming.

I stared at her. "Why?"

"It's partially my fault that he's like this, you know?"

No, I didn't. But we were running out of time. Explanations were going to have to wait. Hastily, I nodded. "Search the fourth story," I ordered. "He's threatening to kill himself again." Belgium's eyes flickered with grief once again before she ran off to do as she was told.

Picking up my skirts again, I ran a few yards further until I reached the next classroom. With a loud thud, I slammed the door open. I saw someone, but once again, it wasn't Germany. Instead, I laid my eyes on England.

He sat on top of a desk by the window. He hugged his legs closed to his chest, dressed in his school uniform. His vibrant green eyes used to be staring at the full moon but now they rested on me. "Seychelles, what are you doing here?" he asked, sounding tired and confused. "Why are you panting?" As if that wasn't a weird observation to make . . .

Still, I did my best to slow my breathing. "I'm looking for Germany. Have you seen him?"

The Brit shook his head. "No, I have not." He paused. "Is there a problem?"

I couldn't waste anymore time. Already backing away, I shook my head. "No. I better be-"

"Can you wait here for just a second?" He asked suddenly. There was no sense of urgency to him, only that numb sadness. That tone made me forget my troubles and linger. I watched silently as England returned to gaze to the moon. It cast a dim, pale light into the room. It shone off his messy blond hair and pooled at his feet. "I've been thinking about a lot of things lately, Seychelles."

My heart skipped a beat. This smelled oddly like a love confession. If I got that kiss, then I could end this cycle and Germany would not die. I stood still as I waited for him to continue. Please let it be that.

England ran his hand through his hair, saying, "There are a lot of things that haven't been making sense lately. Like why would you break up with Germany? Why would that bloody frog suddenly cheat on me? Then it occurred to me: Seychelles; you, France, and Iceland have been plotting something behind my back." Saywhat? As I tried to even process what he just said, the blond looked at me with pitiful desperation. "Can you please just tell me what this is all about?" he pleaded. "I don't want to be left in the dark any longer."

He waited for me to respond. Like always, I couldn't just tell him to truth! He would never believe me. But I had to say something. My lips knitted together as I tried to form coherent words. "Well, er . . .you see here, um, I-" I was saved by the bell.

A bell that sounded a lot like Estonia.

The Baltic nearly ran into me. He was caught in a state of hysteria, face flushed and breathing heavily. The black suit he wore was wrinkled and his glasses were crooked. Surprised, I took a step to the side, allowing England a full view of him. The blond placed gave him a concern look, folding his legs off the desk. "Estonia, is something wrong?' he asked. "You look distraught."

Panting heavily, the nerd told him, "Pres . . . I saw . . . Germany. . . bell tower . . . threatening to . . ." I didn't need any more.

Faster than an anime troll on a Naruto video, I pushed him aside and ran down the hall. I ignored their cries of confusion and the ever weakening feeling in my legs. As I pounded up the staircases, I felt a burning sensation in my lungs. My body was wearing out, I had to rest. But I refused to. I had to stop this atrocity before it happened.

I found the tower's base and climbed up the stairs. My heels were being abused to death with all of this running. It wasn't all that surprising when one of the heels broke. Half way up, I fell flat on my face, feeling my face blaze with pain. But it wasn't midnight yet- I was not dead. Groaning, I lifted myself up. "Germany!" I yelled, ripping my shoes off my feet. I had to stall him. "Don't do it!"

The last shoe gone, I continued my journey up. Why didn't I remove them earlier? It was much easier to run on my bare feet then my heels. I called out his name again and breached the open trap door. Immediately, I was met with a blast of cold air. I paused and took a breath in awe. The moon's light made the giant bells gleam in a surreal way. They glimmered magnificently as they waited for their turn to ring.

More wind blew on to me, causing me to shiver. Folding my arms over my chest, I searched for the German. He wasn't hard to find. He stood at the edge over the grass quad, right by the pillar I was tied to. He was partially looking back at me with an unbelieving expression. "Seychelles, what are you doing here?" he asked, blue eyes glowing in the dark.

I gulped. What the hell do I say now? "Don't kill yourself," I said gently, approaching him slowly. When he flinched and inched closer, I was forced to pause. "It's not worth it."

"Yes it is!" There was a twinge of anger in his voice. "I can't stand all this pain!" That was when it occurred to be that in this universe, straighties were treated like gays were back in mine. Which if none of you knew what that was, go freaking read a newspaper. Either way, a sickening feeling bubbled in my chest.

"Who cares what other people think?" I demanded. "What matters is what you think of yourself!"

"And I must be someone worthless to have lost you!" Well, that backfired significantly. And it was the only argument I had. Unless . . .

Fiercely, I pounded my hand over my chest. "I'm not worth it, Germany!" I spelled out every syllable, drilling it into his brain. "I'm an arrogant, worthless slut! I'm not worth killing yourself over!" I beckoned him over to me. "If you would just move away from the edge-"

"You gave my life a meaning, Seychelles!" Germany turned his back to me and brought his toes over to the edge. "Without you in it-"

Anxiety chained me in my spot as I yelled, "You're brother still lovesyou, Germany!"

"And so does Seychelles!" Ari ran through the trap door, breathless and determined. I stared at him. What was he doing? How did he know this was going on? The Icelandic man's eyes roared with an unspoken fire, contrasting with his icy body. "She's madly in love with you!" He continued, ignoring the confused glances I was giving him. "Seychelles broke up with you because she thought that you would be better off without her."

For once, I quickly caught on to the act he was playing. Nodding, I added, "That's right. I thought that you deserved better. I didn't want to hold you down." Germany tensed, but seemed ready to back away from the edge. Ari looked at me and gave me a curt nod. I had to sell myself a little better.

Taking a deep breath, I felt the tears I'd been holding back come to my eyes. They clouded my vision and overflowed. "And I still love you," I cracked through my choked throat. How ironic; I work so hard to be away from him yet here I am, changing my mind. God must be laughing as hard. "So please, don't do this to yourself. I love you."

Jackass (mainly Sadiq), wherever you are, I hope you are driven to tears with that performance. If not, I hope that you die a long and painful death.

Germany - at last - started to ease away. "I love you too," he whispered, turning to meet us. There was a stream of tears falling down his cheeks. My heart lightened when he took his first step towards me.

Then karma had to be a bitch.

Germany's foot slipped and he fell backwards.

Ari and I screamed as he went over the edge. A terror that I had never known clutched every ounce of my being. "Germany!" I cried, running to the edge. I didn't know why; I didn't want to see the body. The Nordic was right by my side as we looked at the dark ground. The sight was a life saver.

Germany was hanging a floor below us by a single man's hand. For the first time that week, I felt grateful for Sadiq's existence. Half his body was out the window as his arm made the line that save the blond's life. I noticed Poland's hands hanging onto his waist, making sure he didn't slip. Relief flooded me. All I could think was, "_He's not dead. Thank God, he's not dead."_

Ari's face was full of overflowing joy. "Pops, you . . ."

Sadiq looked up at us, frowning deeply. "You two are screwed when I get up there!" He yelled, face turning red with anger and stress. "I swear to God, I'm going to personally make you wish that Russia was the one who kill you instead!"

Ari and I exchanged grins as he started pulling Germany up. We both knew that this was not going to be pleasant. But we couldn't give a damn about it. "I guess that solves that," I said, watching the Turk grunt and pulling him closer and closer up. Poland said something indistinct, but it sounded like an encouragement. I looked at my partner and asked, "But how did he know to be there?"

The Icelandic beside me shrugged. "Probably the same way I knew," he explained. "Prussia ran into the prom, stole the microphone, and demanded everyone's help. Most of us came to assistance."

I moved away from the edge, turning my gaze up at the sky. I could tell that we were nowhere near any city; there were too many stars in the sky. It reminded me of the summer nights when Dad was actually home. He would take Jerry, Larry, and I camping in the mountains. We would be up all night, just gazing at the small orbs in the velvet sky.

Shaking the memories from my eyes, I asked, "And how did you know that we were up here?"

He sat next to me, invading my personal bubble. I didn't care, I wanted to be by someone. "Something just told me to start searching this part of this school and I just heard you yelling." What a normal reason. It was laughable, compared to the outcome it had.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a long minute, listening to my mentor as he lifted Germany though the window. I continued to look at the sky, enjoying the wonders it had to offer. The moon especially hung high on the dome, large to the naked eye. Perhaps that was Bella Moon, congratulating me on doing something right. Sort of. I had help- a lot of it.

"You never answered my question," Ari said, quick and soft. I turned to him, seeing him gaze out to the milieu. His eyes, unlike mine, concentrated on the green hills and forest stretching before us. This academy was completely secluded from the rest of the world. "On whether or not you returned my feelings."

I stared at him, unsure of what to say. He's only known me, Sherry Sue, for less than a week. And I only knew him for the same. Yet, there was a bond between us. It was founded on a fascination, but built on a secret. My secret. Through everything, Ari had been there for me when I thought I was alone. Every time.

But this was why reader inserts were always unrealistic. I was Sherry and he was Iceland. I was a human and he was a nation. I wasn't even part of this universe! There was no way for him to receive his wish.

It was sad: the fangirl had more sense than he did.

Slowly, I entwined my fingers with his cold ones. It killed me to see his face brighten with hope of me saying 'yes'. "I really like you too," I whispered, not able to meet his eyes. "And I want this to happen, but I'm not Seychelles." That was when his face fell into dismay. "This cycle is going to end soon and then you would have never met me. You would have never felt anything for me-"

Ari smashed his lips into mine. This was a full out kiss, like the ones Germany used to always give Seychelles. I didn't move for a second, not quite realizing that it was happening. But when I did, I melted into it. I brought my hand to the back of his head and tangled my fingers into his hair. We were at it for a long moment.

I more than liked it, I loved it. This was everything I wanted in a first kiss (consented kisses at least): a romantic setting, a guy who really loved me. But one grave thought never left my head, "_This is Seychelles's body. We're violating her body." _

But I didn't let him see it. When we drew away, I was smiling softly. Ari somberly took my hands and held them to his lips. "I want you to listen to me," he ordered, his warm breath contrasting his cold skin. "I will always love you, Sherry. Every time you have to repeat everything, I want you to find me. I want you to re-explain everything to me. I swear, I will believe you. Understand?"

"Yes." I felt another spout of tears over come me. This time, it was tears of happiness. I suddenly didn't feel half as alone. I threw my arms around his neck, holding him close to my heart. The force sent him onto his back, causing me to lie on top of him. I kissed his cheeks again, repeating "I swear I will" in a happy chant.

Ari held me for a long minute, drowning in whatever emotions he may be feeling. I heard him mutter something about me smelling a lot like shea butter, but it was irrelevant to our joy. Eventually, I rolled off him and help him to his feet. "Let's get going," the silver haired man suggested, taking my hand in his. "Pops is probably ready to skin us."

I smiled and readily followed him. Lost in the moment, I became engrossed with how cold his hand was.

Then the midnight bells started chiming.

The monster works of metal starting ringing, roaring loudly across the school. We released our grip and slapped our hands over our ears, trying to block out the noise. I wish I hadn't. A bronze bell swung strongly and knocked into me. With nothing to stop me, I fell forward and to what was supposed to be the ground. Instead, as rotten fate would have it, I went right through the trapdoor.

My world became a spinning, painful mess. There was pain everywhere as I tried to find my bearings. I crashed through something and found myself falling through open air. Then, rather abruptly, my world went black.

* * *

**Cycle 3: The Void**

"You bitch!" After the spinning feeling one receives from being socked in the face disappeared, I realized that I was back in the void. I was lying on the black ground as Seychelles straddled herself on top of me. Tears were in falling from her eyes as she raised her fist again. I had half a second to cry out as she made contact again. My nose couldn't stand the pain and broke. Tears of my own formed as I howled in pain.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded, tasting metallic blood in my mouth. It really didn't disturb me- when I was little, I would get constant nose bleeds. I grew an eventual tolerance for it. In a way that totally wasn't vampirish, I was sort of sad when my tonsils were removed, curing me of the problem.

Seychelles clamped her smooth hands over my neck. She squeezed and I felt my airways restrict. "How can you do such a thing?" she demanded, growing hysterical. "You were supposed to have gotten it this time!"

The corners of my vision grew fuzzy as my need for oxygen grew fiercer. Through a weak, captured voice, I asked, "What . . . are you . . . talking . . .'bout?" She looked at me with anger and confusion, and then released me. I immediately started coughing, filling my lungs back with air.

I had a hand over my aching neck. A broken nose, bruised face, and neck: that was the most injuries I had ever received. _"I'm surprised Sadiq hasn't given me worse." _I thought in grim humor.

The African nation lifted herself off of me and started pacing. In a distracted voice, she explained herself. "I only allowed you to break-up with Germany because I thought that you might have the balls to actually get it done. But what do you do? You throw yourself at Iceland! In my body! In what universe does that make sense?"

Grimacing, I wiped my forearm over my blood covered face. I probably only made it smear, but hey; I felt like a bad ass doing it. Using the most sense I had that day, I sneered, "Well if people would stop keeping secrets from me I might actually be prepared for half the things that's been thrown at me!"

She snapped quickly, "Like what?"

"Like what's your story with Germany? I demanded. "Why is he suicidal?"

Seychelles sighed. Testily, she sat on the ground in front of me, folding her legs under her dress. She sat in that sexy, princess way with legs together and stretched out beside you. "I guess you deserve to know," she said, sounding tired and stressed. Thus began her long story.

Apparently, a just as the school was starting, Seychelles became friends with Germany. She knew he was straight, but she thought she was a lesbian like everyone else. She even had a crush on Liechtenstein. _"I guess that explains my woman crush on her," _I thought, first hearing the news.

However, all the other nations turned against the openly straight ones. What started could only be described as bullying. Liechtenstein was constantly ganged up on, Prussia had his dorm vandalized, and Germany was openly mocked and beaten. Eventually, it became too much.

One day, Seychelles saw Germany at the top of the bell tower and ran to stop him. When she confronted him, he confessed to having made a big mistake. He tried asking Belgium out and she said no. What was worst, the whole school was already haranguing him about it. To him, there was no point in living anymore.

Just as he was about to jump, Seychelles made a split second decision. She confessed her 'love' to him, begging him to continuing living.

"And we've just been together since," she finished, picking at the ends of her pigtails. "I've never broken up with him because I was afraid he would return to that state of depression." A weak giggle danced under her breath. "And I was right."

I bit my lip. So that was why Germany ranted on about Seychelles only feeling pity for him and how Belgium played a role in this. I confess, I felt horrible. I felt like the world's biggest asshole that ever existed. Still, I had to ask, "Do you even love him?"

Seychelles shrugged. "I do and I don't." Her brown orbs shone with melancholy when she added, "I really have grown to love Germany, but at the same time it's impossible to. How can you truly love someone when you're forced to feel a certain way?" That was one of the deepest things I had ever heard.

The bleeding in my nose trickling down to nothing, I was free to hug my legs. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I shouldn't have done what I did."

To my surprise, the girl shook her head. "No, I'm glad you did," she responded. "You saved Germany's life." She looked away and added in a mutter, "Why do you have to be so perfect?"

My ears perked up, "What did you say?"

Seychelles only smiled kindly. "Can you make friends with Iceland again?" she asked. "He was a big help and I kind of enjoyed his presence."

I scrunched my eyebrows together. "Wait a second. You punched me because I was with Iceland but now you want me to hook up with him again?"

Sadly, my body's owner was already starting to fade away. Still smiling, she barely had enough time to explain, "I said be friends, not have sex with him. This is _my _body."

Before I could respond, that falling sensation returned. And I was falling

and falling

and falling

and falling

a

n

d

. . .

. . .

* * *

**Cycle 4: Monday**

This time when Lady Gaga started singing, I automatically sat up. My injures were gone, but every inch of my body ached. Grimacing, I cracked my neck, trying to regain the feeling there. I could not help but to moan a pitiful "ow."

"Serves you right."

I groaned and rolled my eyes. Of course he was here. "Sadiq, are you always going to be in here?" I demanded, glaring sharp daggers at the man.

He shrugged, leaning back in his usual chair. "It's part of my job," he stated simply. Yeah, like waking up in a teenage girl's room was 'part of the job'. Putting that aside, I noticed how much better he looked compared to last cycle. There was a peppy tone to his voice, as if he was happy for the new start. At least he wasn't about to kill Ari and me anymore.

Oh God, Ari.

"_I have to talk to him," I_ thought determinedly, jumping from my bed. I yelped, feeling a wave of pain sting my nerves. "What the hell?" I gasped, feeling a bit of my world spin. "Why am I hurting?"

Sadiq took a swing of his apple juice filled metal container, saying, "Well, Sherry, you did die a rather painful death."

I put aside my pain and made my way to the closet. Ignoring his presence, I stiffly pulled on the nearest red jumper. "How did I die?"

The Turk shrugged. "I'm not quite sure. You fell down a flight of stairs, went out the third story window, and landed in the school's fountain. You either broke your neck, fell to your death, or drowned." Another drink. "Take your pick."

I shook my head, pulling my shoes on. "Why are you so casual about this?" I asked, reaching for the door. Before I could touch the knob, I felt someone holding my arm. Turning, I saw my mentor glaring at me, a tight frown on his face.

"Where are you going?" He demanded, not sounding pleased.

I lied, "I'm getting started on our mission-"

He rolled his honey eyes. "Sherry, stop lying to me. I want you for once to actually take this seriously-"

A small fire sparked inside of me. Stubbornly, I yanked my arm away, glaring at him. "I have something I have to do," I snapped, marching to the door. I had half a second to glorify his stunned face before he demanded that I explained myself. Instead, I ran as fast as I could down the hall, to the cafeteria.

The run felt good. Even with the dull pain coating me, I felt free and alive. After a minute or two, I entered the large tabled filled room. Ari was easily sitting by himself, puffin sitting on his lap.

Smiling brightly, I dashed up to him, calling his country name. His blue eyes looked at me with confusion. "Hi Seychelles," he greeted, obviously confused. It only grew worse when I took a seat right in front of him. "What are you doing?"

With as much happiness any one person could bear, my whole story spilled from my lips. With each word, I grew more and more excited. I wanted Ari to be by my side again. "_Perhaps this is love," I_ thought, finishing my tale with the events at the clock tower. "_Always wanting to be with someone."_

But I did not know what love truly was until Iceland scowled, saying, "That is the craziest bullshit I've ever heard." My heart dropped and I further tried to explain myself. Each attempted ended with a similar statement until he finally just stood abruptly and left.

I sat in my spot, feeling my hope shatter like delicate glass. Reality seemed to have hit me hard in the jaw. Ari was not going to believe me, he never was. What I had with him that one time was literally a once in a lifetime chance. I could hear Sadiq's voice in my head, demanding that I forget him.

But absence makes the heart grow fonder.

And Ari was forever absent from me.

* * *

**BFTL: **Hey Sisko, something just occurred to me.  
**SEK: **What?  
**BFTL: **If we're the ones in the AN and something the readers don't like happens in the story, does that mean that they'll kill us?  
**SEK: **Don't be ridiculous, they aren't that stupid.  
**BFTL: **Dude, aren't they reading a Fan fiction?  
**SEK: **I take offense to that. But I see your point.  
Look guys, in Wolf's defense, when she was coming up with the plot, she didn't think that Ari would be a very popular character. Luckily, he is set to return in a few chapter, so hang in there.  
**BFTL: **Yes. But ain't it sad how we're half way through the story already? At least there's a sequel.  
**SEK: **Blue! We weren't suppose to tell people that!  
**BFTL: **You mean that Wolf didn't tell them that this was going to be a series of fanfictions? Shoot. Then I should probably take down the poll in our profile asking people what they think of it, shouldn't I?  
**SEK: ***facedesk. Idiot. . . .and remember to review. Don't worry about killing any of us, Wolf was the only one with an ego to inflate.

**Funfacts  
**

"Sherry Agatha Sue" Lame full name.

"A bell that sounded a lot like Estonia" In case you were confused, Estonia told England about Germany because he's the student council president. Apparently, Miss Pangaea isn't good enough.

**Next Chapter: **The stakes are raised and Sherry deals with her new lost love.

****REVIEW AND GIVE BLU AND SISKO SOME LOVE! (AND VOTE IN THE POLL)****


	8. Apparently, My Heart Will Go On

****Sisko and Blue take over the Fangirl AN- Day 17****

**SEK: **I believe we were quite clear when we said that Ari was going to be returning later in the story. Not this chapter, but later.

**BFTL: **I think that since we're not Wolfie, no one believed us.

**SEK: **Either way, thank you for showing your support and reviewing. We're just over 80 reviews (already? Crap!) and the delicious taste of triple digit numbers is fresh in our mouths.

**BFTL: **Ew. . .

**SEK: **Shut-it. Anyways, enjoy this chapter of plot set up for the rest of the story!

**BFTL: **And review!

**Chapter Summary: **Sadiq's life just continues to suck as he tried to figure out how to deal with a heart broken girl

**Warnings: **Strong Language, Sexual References, Yaoi, Yuri, Brief OC X Canon

**Disclaimer: **We do not own Hetalia, Howl's Moving Castle, Titanic, and the Little Mermaid.

* * *

**~Chapter 8~**

**Apparently, My Heart Will Go On  
**

"_The best thing about tonight's that we're not fighting_

_Could it be that we have been this way before?_

_I know you don't think that I am trying._

_I know you're wearing thin down to the core."_

**-From "Fall for You", An American song by Secondhand Serenade**

* * *

**Cycle 4: The Room**

Turkey stared out the window at the door. Like every time before, there was only a void of black before him. He could only frown. It couldn't go on forever. If he could get the stupid door to open, he could escape and find the end. Then he could be free of the Voice forever. "That door is never going to open," it said suddenly, reading the man's thoughts.

Turkey could only frown more. He hated it when it did that. If it could read that thought, what prevented it from rummaging through his whole conscience? "How about you take a seat," it suggested, easing his attention away. "I can tell that we have a serious matter to talk about." Slowly, he backed away from the window and returned to the white chair. For some obscure reason, the Turk thought he saw a flash of red among the black.

He took his seat and looked up. Besides an irritated huff, the man made no other sound. The Voice did not say anything for a moment. For a minute, it was a battle for the dominant one. The air was tense as each associate tried to outdo the other. The problem was that if neither one of them let up, Turkey would be stuck in the Room forever. Growling, he continued to glare at the glossy white ceiling, barking, "Why did you do that?"

The Voice smirked, glad to have won the contest. "Whatever do you mean?" it asked, sounding rather humored.

He sighed. That was the problem with talking to the devil: he had to be blunt, even if it already knew what he meant. Like before, he made sure to spell out each syllable. "Iceland, no longer loves Sherry. Sherry, in ruins because of it."

"Well you did tell me to stop interfering with your contract-"

"That is not what I meant!" Turkey snapped, barely containing his yell. "You planned this all out from the beginning. You made sure that Sherry would fall in love with Iceland. Then you were just going to take him away from her."

The Voice laughed. "Why would I do something like that?" it asked.

The Turk pressed his lips together. Why would he do that? For the past cycle, Turkey had just been watching the girl sulk during the day and drink her sorrows away during the night. Many times, he had tried to talk her out of it, but she would just snap at him to leave her alone. "Get the hell away from me!" that girl had yelled most recently. "I want nothing to do with you, bastard!"

Turkey had restlessly laid next to Poland all that night, trying to figure out why the Voice would want her to be in such a state. It was around three in the morning when the answer had finally come to him.

He could not help but to smirk as he revealed his thoughts. "It's because you are afraid. You realized that that girl might actually have the guts to get those men to fall for her. And you can't have that. After all, my soul is just that precious to you." His smirk only grew wider. "Am I right . . ." And he called the Voice by its true name.

In a split second, the nation felt a cold hand around his throat. But it was just a touch, no actual pressure was added. Finding that he could still breathe, he looked at his reflection on the glossed walls. The physical form of the Voice stood behind him, holding a single hand around his neck. It stood tall and proud, like a gentleman who knew the power he possessed. In a low growl, it spat, "I've made some very simple rules for you, _Sadiq. _You are to never disobey me, you can never look at me, and you are to never call me by that name."

Turkey's smirk did not falter. "You're scared," he said again. "And you're a coward. Claiming to be all powerful, but never allowing me to actually look at you."

The Voice was silent for a long moment. Just as quickly as he struck, his hand disappeared. "You look at me every day," it told him, a tinge of melancholy in his low rumble. "Every day you look right into my eyes. But you've never seen me." It started pacing, not bothering to check to see if its captive was looking. The Voice didn't need to- it knew that Turkey would not look. "But you did not just come here to spite me. You want another deal."

The nation scowled, determined to look ahead. Finally, the point he wanted to make. "Yes. I want you to bring Iceland's memories back," he said.

The ominous figure shook its head. "I can do that, but it will come at a price. One you will not be able to pay."

He frowned, sensing the cost. Still, he had to ask, "What is it?"

He could feel the Voice smirk. "I will bring Iceland back on the condition that you remain here for the rest of the deal. No communications with the girl, no interactions with the real world. You'll have to trust that she will stick to her job." It placed a cold, dead hand on the brunette's head, saying, "Of course, you do not trust her to do that."

Turkey looked down. Sadly, the jackass was right. He didn't trust that girl to get that kiss without his constant pestering. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He didn't need Iceland anyways. He just knew that the Kid was smart and that he would be a great help- under his supervision, of course. "_And you only want him back to make her happy," he_ reminded himself. "_You'll have to find another way to do it."_

The Voice stole his smirk from him. "I thought so." There was a mocking tone to its voice. It struck one of his long, irritated nerves.

It lit the fuse to a long growing bomb of hatred. "_No, I refuse to give up without a fight." _Turkey rose from his spot. For a moment, he stood still in place. Then, he suddenly turned and lashed out at the Voice's figure. Before he could even get a good look at it, he felt himself on the ground. His limbs were pinned there by an invisible force.

The Turk's eyes darted around, trying to find his object of hate. But it was gone. He banged his head on the floor feeling very much like the butterflies put on naturalist's displays. "Come back, you coward!" He yelled, trying to regain control of his arms. "Stop running away and fight me for once, jackass!"

"I prefer to fight people using my brain." The same force that held his limbs forced Turkey's honey colored eyes to look at the nearest wall. In the reflection, he saw the voice standing over him in its strong manner. He could feel it smirk when it added, "Not my brawn."

Chills ran through Turkey's body as the Voice placed a hand on his pants pocket. He felt himself shudder when his coldness seeped through his starched clothes. It smiled at the reaction and continued, "I also hate people who use brute force against the weak."

Despite the fear holding his body, the Turk grinded his teeth together. "There is nothing weak about you."

It made a displeased 'tsk' sound. "Sadiq, I really thought that we could make friends with each other, but obviously you need to learn a lesson." The nation's skin pricked when the Voice's hand reached into his pants pocket. From it, he pulled out the precious gold watch. Turkey was helpless as he watched it click the cover open, revealing the pure white clock face. The stray hand was pointing at the four.

"You are no longer on your fourth try," it declared. Its dark hand turned the top knob, moving the hand along. He was silent with fear as he watched his and that girl's number of attempts decrease. Five . . .Six . . .Seven . . .

The Voice dropped the watch onto Turkey's open hand. "Congratulations, you are now finishing your tenth try," it said, finding unspeakable pleasure in watching his victim squirm. "You now only have two tries left."

Turkey did his best to move his body, but not even his eyes would budge. The most he could manage was the tightening of his fist over the watch. "You can't do that," he growled, feeling more hatred for it than ever before.

It laughed. "Yes I can. This is my world and in this world, I am god."

There was a flash.

The next thing he knew, Turkey was lifting his head off the bar's counter. Groaning, he cracked a few bones, trying to regain some feeling. Bartender Pangaea merely glanced at him and offered a drink. "That would be great," he muttered, noticing that his pocket watch was still in his hands. "Make it a strong one."

As she prepared it, he turned the gold device in his hands. What this represented . . . he opened it to see that the stray hand was now pointing at the ten. And the cycle was going to end in a few minutes. . . He and Sherry did not have much time left. "Here ya go!" The woman said, sliding the tall glass over to him. She sounded a little too happy for his mood.

With a grunt, Turkey accepted it. He immediately took a long drink, feeling regret for his actions. He should not have lashed out so violently. He should have done what he always did: grimace and think of the times when he actually owned his own soul. "_Why do those times have to be so distant?" _He wondered, taking another drink. The alcohol that burned the back of his throat felt like a proper punishment for all the wrongs he committed. If only he could go back in time to change _one _of them.

Turkey sighed. He had to figure out a way to repair a teen's broken heart. There was no way she could do this with a damaged one. But how was he going to do it? Obviously, Ari was not going to apologize and set the world right. For the first time in a long time, the nation was at an absolute loss. He hadn't been in such a state since that day . . .

"_There is one more thing I have to worry about," He_ thought, gulping the rest of the beverage (which was most of the glass) in one swing. "_If I look at that jackass's face every day, then that means that he attends this school." _

* * *

**Cycle 4 (10?): The Void**

The cycle passed without me noticing much. I admit, the most I did was just sulk and work my way through the motions necessary to be Seychelles. It wasn't just my heart that was hurting; I felt as though every ounce of my being was trampled by wildebeest like Mufasa was in _The Lion King_. The only problem was that I lived to tell the tale. Which I had to admit, if I were to die a death, I wanted it to be a Disney one. All Disney deaths were freaking dramatic and badass. So badass.

But don't get me wrong, I did try to break-up with the 'FrUk'. I did the very best I could. The problem was that both of the blonds just saw me as an over emotional teen who wouldn't tell her father why she was so blue. Add the fact that I didn't have a heart to break up with Germany again and you had the recipe for a failed cycle.

Unfortunately, Seychelles was not so empathetic. "Sherry, what is wrong with you?" she demanded, sounding more than a little crossed. "Why the hell are you sulking?"

I groaned. "I don't want to talk about it," I snapped, placing a hand on my forehead.

She rolled her eyes, saying, "This is about Iceland, isn't it?"

With pursed lips, "You wouldn't understand."

Seychelles did something very surprising. She gently approached me. Her soft hand cupped my pimple ridden cheek like a mother to her daughter. "I have to stand back and let some stranger break up with my boyfriend," she said. "I think that I could understand." For the first time ever, I felt as though she was right. Like, dead right.

Disney-dead right.

My eyes drifted to the floor. "It just hurts," I said. "I really love him."

You know what she did next? Instead of going along with the nice affectionate side of herself that no Seychelles Hater would have thought to see, she turned into her bitchy self. Placing her fist on her hips, she said, "Well I don't believe it."

My jaw dropped faster than the pounds on an anorexic actress. "What do you know about it?" I demanded, feeling my hatred for her increase. "What the hell do you-" She slammed her finger on my mouth, silencing me.

I was about to object ("You can't stop the truth!") when I saw the serious look on her face. The African was looking up at the sky with an attentive look. It was as if someone, a voice, was talking to her. I watched as Seychelles's visage turned to a martini mixture of shock, fear, and panic. "Oh no," she whispered, drawing her limbs closer to herself. "How did that happen?"

I knitted my eyebrows together. "What is it?" I asked, sensing the doomed atmosphere.

"Turkey did something stupid," she said. "And now we . . ." She trailed off, face growing thoughtful. "If that's what happened, then he can't be the bad guy."

My jaw dropped again. Oh no she didn't . . . "Wait, so you mean to tell me that Sadiq isn't the jackass and that I have been avoiding him for no reason?"

Seychelles raised her hands in defense. My world started to grow fuzzy as she defended, "Hey! I thought that it was true too! But since he . . ." Her voice faded away and I felt myself falling

and falling

and falling

and falling

a

n

d

. . .

. . .

* * *

**Cycle 11: Monday**

Let's just say that after that adventure in the void, I just said "hell with this" and spent my whole day at the bar. I didn't see Sadiq except for when I woke up. I did try to find out what he apparently 'did', but he was preoccupied with other thoughts. "_She was probably just lying," I_ later reasoned. "_I bet Seychelles just wanted to trip me up." _Obviously, I am way too smart for that.

Right?

Anyways, from first period to last, I was in the bar, sipping away at whatever Bartender Pangaea gave me. "Why are you gettin' yourself drunk for, gal?" She had asked, giving me a shot glass of vodka. "Are ya havin' gal problems or somethin'?"

I shrugged, ready to just agree and get her away from me. But guess who decided to sit next to me? "Bartender Pangaea, Comrade Seychelles is straight." Russia slid himself onto the stool next to me. He actually didn't look at that scary. There was a soft smile on his childish face as he ordered a clone of my drink.

I gave him an irritated look, ready to make a run for it when someone stole the seat next to me. The Holy Roman Empire didn't smile, but rather gather me a bashfully kind look. "I bet that they're just as serious," he said, ordering a beer. Around us, other nations filled the bar, enjoying their after school down time. "Why don't you tell us?" he suggested. "Russia and I would love to hear it."

His partner nodded. "Da, I like to listen to other's pains."

His boyfriend gave him a look. "Russia, please don't freak Seychelles out," he asked. "Estonia is still scarred for life for what you did with that toilet."

The other pouted. "But it was so much fun!" I wanted to laugh. Even in a crack pairing, Russia will be Russia. Still, I resigned myself to the two men. I ordered a beer and started talking about my problems.

* * *

Turkey's eyes drifted between his watch and the girl at the bar. He sat at a table, alone, scowling to himself. She was getting majorly drunk. At this rate, she was going to have a hangover the next morning. He sighed to himself. Once Holy Rome and Russia left, he would have to try to get her thoughts off of Iceland. The only question was 'how'?

"Hey Hunny-poops!" Poland appeared at the nation's side, smiling happily. Turkey faked a smile when he kissed his cheek. How envious he was of his boyfriend's ability to always be so bubbly. "Is something, like, wrong?" he asked, green eyes peering at his curiously. "You're like totally moody."

The Turk smiled half heartedly. "I'm fine ," he said, stealthy hiding his watch. "Just a little stressed."

The blond placed his chin on his hands. "How so?" There was an adorable tilt in his head.

He felt himself truly smile. It was those cute little quirks that made him love the Pole so much. He had no idea what he would do without him. Patting the watch in his pocket, Turkey could not help but to smile. Poland would know what to do. "There is this girl in all my classes," he explained. He pointed a finger at Sherry. "That one right there. She's been having some love trouble and I feel as though I should help her."

Poland nodded eagerly. "Seychelles totally looks a bit down," he commented. "But yeah, I'm so cool with helping you, broski. Do you, like, know what kind of a problem it, like, is?"

"Broken heart."

There was a moment of silence as the nation considered their options. "Girls like talking about their problems and junk," he said. "Like, the only option is to, like, get her to talk to you."

Turkey nodded. "But how do I do that, sweetie?" He asked. "I barely know her."

He leaned into the brunette's strong shoulder. "The same way I totally got you to talk to me," he said. The memory was clear in the men's heads. After that day, Turkey was depressed about his situation. He would sulk in a moody atmosphere. That is, until Poland noticed and stepped up to the job of making him smile.

Thinking about it, Turkey could not help but to grin, asking, "You mean with a tub of ice cream and some sappy chick flicks?"

His boyfriend smirked. "Totally. I'll get the ice cream if you, like, get the movies."

The Turk smiled. If he was going to get the ice cream, he would either have to sneak off campus (which was strictly against their bosses' orders) or beg some from Cafeteria Lady Pangaea (which was highly unlikely). Just leave it to his boyfriend to choose the hardest job- all Turk had to do was beg the DVDs from America.

He kissed him softly on the lips. He has done it a million times before, yet each kiss made Turkey's heart bang loudly in his chest. He swore that everyone in the room could hear it. "You have yourself a deal," he said, forgetting the grave decisions on his shoulders.

However, they quickly returned once Poland left to do his job. Sitting alone at the table, Sadiq looked down guiltily. He pulled his watch back out and stared at it. The dim lights shone on the shiny gold surface. His sad reflection stared back at him. Turkey could never trust fully trust reflections anymore.

It was because of the Room. The endless, mind screwing effect always made him sick. That was probably why the Voice-

He jumped, nearly dropping the watch. Turkey felt his breathing hitched and his heart thumped loudly. It was not due to love, but utter fear. For a moment, he thought he saw the reflection Voice's dark figure standing behind him. It had smirked at him, threatening everything he cared about. But, checking behind himself, there was nothing there.

"_I'm going crazy," _he thought, rubbing his sweaty hands over his face. _"That _monster _is driving me into insanity. But . . ." _Turkey cautiously placed a hand over his cheek, the one Poland kissed. "_Poland . . ."_

He could see it. The Voice, further breaking his promise and attacking his love. His precious Poland. He couldn't let that happen. If he was going to fail, he had to at least protect the man. The one who saved him from himself.

He tossed the watch into the air and caught it easily. But that jackass could read his thoughts. If he just simply broke off all connections with Poland, the Voice would still know that he loved him. No, if Turkey was going to protect him, he was going to do it right.

An idea occurred to him. _"That's crazy," _the brunette thought. But as he waited longer and longer for his chance to talk to that girl, the idea continued to tickle him. _"It might just be crazy enough to actually work," _he found himself thinking. _"But-" _ his gaze pierced her back. "_-I'm going to need Sherry's help." _

* * *

Well, considering the amount I drank earlier with the amount I drank during the story, I was pretty buzzed by the end. " . . . and then this slut tells me that it's not real," I slurred, slamming my empty glass on the counter. "Who the hell is she to think-" hiccup "-that I didn't love 'em?" I had to admit, I was feeling very tipsy. I was surprised that the amount of alcohol in my blood hadn't killed my liver yet.

Russia laughed and patted his hand on my back. Unfortunately, he did it too hard and gave me a huge bruise. "That is a very humorous story," he chirped happily. "You've obviously have been drinking too much, da?"

I scowled and pointing a swaying finger at him. "It is so true!" I barked, feeling my world spin. "You assholes are just stupid."

There was a small, nervous laugh next to me. "Seychelles, I think you've had enough to drink," Holy Rome said, reaching out for my glass of whiskey. Quickly, I took it back from him, glaring darkly. Or as darkly as a drunk person could.

"I can hold my liquor just fine!" I yelled, downing the whole glass in one gulp.

The German paled at the sight. He turned to the woman in charge. "Bartender Pangaea?" The plump lady looked at him. "Make sure there's a bucket nearby. At this rate, Seychelles is going to barf soon."

I curled my lip. "Asshole."

"Da, but unfortunately, Holy Rome and I must be going now," Russia said, already leaving his chair. "He and I and going to have a little fun tonight-" He smiled childishly. "-Da?"

I nodded. "I hope the sex is great."

Holy Rome turned the deepest shade of red known to man as his boyfriend laughed and placed a hand over his ass. "I'll be sure we do." he said merrily, skipping away with the blond in tow. I watched them go, chuckling with my hiccups. You know, neither of them weren't so bad once they had a few drinks with you.

Thinking that I was a going to be alone, I ordered a shot of moonshine. "Don't give it to her." I rolled my head, groaned, and banged my forehead on the counter when Sadiq took the seat next to me. From the wreckage came a sharp hiccup.

"What are _you_ doing here?" I slurred. "_You_ should be off kissing the 'Fruk'."

The Turk rolled his eyes. "No, you should be doing that," He snapped, rubbing his temples in frustration. The dim lighting didn't make him look less pissed off. Calmly, he turned around and called out for Estonia. "Can you go to England and get something to sober her up?" he asked, ignoring my growls.

Estonia gave me wary look. In his timid, nerdy fashion, he said, "I'll get her something strong." He left before I could turn around and yell at him to go screw himself.

"Stupid prick," I muttered, eyes locked on the wall of liquor bottles in front of me. They just yearned to be drunk. It only made the drunk me more pissed, yelling out to the whole bar, "Y'all a buncha pricks!"

Sadiq sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder. A second later, he squeezed so tightly, I could feel him crushing the blood vessels. I cried out in pain and slumped into a ball. "Stop making a fool of yourself," He ordered, glaring at me. I slurred more obscenities. Another sigh escaped his lips, along with his muttering about my stupidity. "I just want to ask you one question."

"What?"

"What is your favorite chick flick?" He asked.

If I was sober, therefore being able to think properly, I would have questioned his motives. Like seriously, why would The Republic of Turkey being asking me something like _that_? But I _wasn_'t sober, therefore, I _couldn_'t think properly (don't drink and drive, kids). So I just gave him a blank look. "_The Little Mermaid_ and _Howl's Moving Castle_."

He scowled at me. "Aren't those both cartoons?" he asked.

Again, I glared at him. "Both of the heroines get the freaking guy in the end," I said, repressing another bout of hiccups. "How are they not chick flicks?"

The brunette was forced to agree. "Fine then." He jumped off the stool, saying, "When Estonia gets back with the potion, make sure to take it. Then go back to your dorm, got it?"

"Are you going to be waiting there for me?" I asked.

"Yes, I am."

Lord, strike down my drunken self from where she sits. "Sounds kinky," I said smugly, winking like Hooker-Sherry.

Sadiq's faced turned a vivid shade of red. His bit his lip, trying to hold back his anger at me. I continued to smirk at him as he released a long, heavy breath. "You better not get drunk again, jackass," He hissed as he stormed away. I crackled when the bar's doors slammed angrily behind him.

"Vee, you really shouldn't treat him like that." The depressed Italy, sitting a few seats from me, gave me a sad, hollow look. His small white hands cradled a cold glass of beer. "Turkey was only trying to help."

I scowled and glared at the beverage that seemed more valuable than gold. How badly I wanted it. "Go jump off the clock tower or something," I growled, brushing him away. I was already brooding in self pity when he gave a half hearted agreement and left.

I didn't know how long I was waiting there. Bartender Pangaea would not allow me any more liquor, making me sulk and later feel the effects of a hangover. My head was reeling and the dim lighting seemed as bright as Chip Skylark's shiny teeth. I squeezed my eyes shut and laid my head down, trying to block out any more light. The bar slowly emptied, nations saying that they had sleep and homework to catch up on. At one point, I fell asleep, only to be woken by a downpour of cold water.

Life returned to my aching muscles. Cursing, I flew off my chair and onto the hardwood floors. "What the hell!" I yelled, feeling my world spin uncontrollably. I was seeing double Estonias looking at me curiously as triple Pangeaes held empty buckets. "What was that for?"

The blond smiled unsurely. "I was trying to wake you up," he said. "I have the potion Turkey wanted me to bring."

I searched my head for any trace of the incident. I could faintly see Sadiq turning red and demanding that I meet him at my room. _"This is what it must be like to be drunk,"_ I thought griming, feeling my headache worsen. I gave a wry smile, lying, "Uh, yeah, I remember that. It treats hangovers, right?"

He extended a small glass vial towards me, saying, "Yes. It-" I snatched it from him before he could finish whatever sentence he had. A second later, I was downing it all in one gulp.

If beer was bitter, than this stuff was sweet. Very sweet. Like I-took-all-the-sugar-in-the-world-and-concentrated-it-into-one-liquid-sweet. I gagged, but forced it to stay inside. At least it tasted better than Nyquill. Moments later, I felt my body loosen and my mind became clearer. Muscle pains dissolved like salt in water.

Five minutes later, I felt perfectly healthy. No, better than that. I felt like a fitness freak that just downed twelve bottles of five hour energy drinks. Climbing to my feet, I couldn't help but to exclaim, "Wow this stuff does work! Estonia, have you tried this?"

The Baltic State shook his head. "I never had the need," he said uncomfortably. I brushed it away and started marching to the exit. "Seychelles, where are you going?"

I turned half way and flashed him an accolade worthy smile. "I'm going back to my dorm, see ya!"

It must have been late. The moon was high in the sky and the halls were Wild West empty. A coat of darkness laid over them as I tried to navigate without the lights on. It was only by memory that I was able to find my way to the girl's dormitories.

When my small wood door was right before me, I paused and stared at it. My light was on and I could hear someone on the other side. They were sighing heavily. Well since Mr. Sadiq Adnan was the one person who sighed the most, I would say that it was him. Without knocking, I swung my door open.

Sadiq was sitting at his usual chair, observing his gold watch. His beautiful honey eyes met mine as he quickly clicked it shut and shoved it into his pocket. "Took you long enough," he stated nonchalantly. "What took you so long?"

Ignoring his question, I realized that there were a few changes to Seychelles's dorm. Right by the doorway was a stand with a big black TV on it. It was hooked to a DVD player, red light singling it's "on" status. On the desk was a large blue cooler. Unbelieving, I closed the door behind me and turned around slowly. "What is all this?" I asked, unable to do anything but smile.

The Turk smirked, knowing he did good. "This is called 'Getting back into the game night'. Complete with chick flicks-" He held up three movies: The _Little Mermaid, Howl's Moving Castle, _and_ Titanic_. "-and-" From the cooler, then man lifted two gallon tubs of chocolate ice cream. "-a girl's best friend."

I couldn't help myself; I cracked up laughing. His prideful look never phased as I smacked my knee and clutched my side. "Sadiq, this is amazing!" I declared, unable to remove my smile. "How did you come up with this?"

"I had a little help," he said. He tossed me a spoon and a gallon, saying, "Now come on and eat up, jackass." I laughed again and flopped onto the bed.

I moved my pillows to the end of my bed and created a comfortable place to lie on my stomach. Meanwhile, Sadiq stuck in the first movie. Being done first, I had the opportunity to watch him. "_His back is rather wide," I_ noted, peeling off the treat's cover. "_Wide, but . . . smooth." _I know, weird description, but it was late.

Red FBI warning screen appeared and he finally rested back on his chair. I frowned. I had down a lot of homework on there and I knew how uncomfortable it could get. Rolling my eyes, I scooted over on my bed. "Why don't you sit next to me?" I offered, patting the empty space. "It's really soft."

Sadiq stared at me for a moment with a puzzled expression. Just when I thought he was going to refuse, he muttered a 'thank you' and laid next to me. For a full hour and a half, he watched Howl (voice by Christian Bail) fall in love with Sophie, a girl cursed to be an old lady. I noticed at some points my mentor's lips drew into a deep frown.

It was only at the parts mentioning Howl's curse.

"I have to admit, that was a nice movie," he said, rolling off to change the DVDs. "Jappy is pretty good with his animation."

I nodded, swallowing a mouthful of chocolate goodness. "Yeah, he comes out with a lot of good animes." Sadiq smiled at me and shook his head. It was an unspoken agreement that one of theses animes was the universe he supposedly lived in. I noticed the next movie and asked, "Did you pick the _Titanic_?"

He nodded, feeding the movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio to the machine. "It's one of my favorites."

I choked on my food. "Really?" Why did I find that hard to believe?

"Yes." The brunette jumped back into his place and pressed play. "I remember seeing this when it first came out. At first, I was a little hesitant about watching one of America's movies, but this is one of the best ever made. The never ending romance between Jack and Rose is so awe inspiring. And even after Jack died, she still loved him. I've been watching it for over around a decade and I still cry at the end. "

"I would have never have guessed that about you," I said, giving a small shrug and trying not to laugh. The very idea of someone like the 'Ottoman Empire' liking a gushy romance was just hilarious. "I guess that just shows how little I really know you."

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah . . . Why do you like _The Little Mermaid_ so much?"

My smile faded away. The reason was there, like a black dot among white. Sadiq copied my frown, realizing that he may have said something wrong. But if he was able to admit to loving a chick flick, then I could tell him why.

"One of my earliest memories was sitting on my Dad's lap and watching that movie with him," I said, seeing the memory behind my eyes. In a way, I could still feel my father's hands wrapped around my then small frame. "He would always sing the song with me and call me his 'little mermaid.' Every time King Triton came on screen, he would ask me who was the better father." I chuckled. "I would always say that it was him. One time, when he was gone for awhile, I was really mad at him. I was about eight. When Dad came back, I was ready to yell at him, but he had tickets to go see _The Little Mermaid_ on stage. And I loved him once again. That is, until he left again."

Sadiq whistled, barely watching the opening scenes of the movie play out. "So I guess he was never home?" he asked.

I shook my head. "He's a traveling reporter," I told him. "He goes all around the world, reporting the latest 'catastrophe.'"

"You sound as though you really hate him."

"Well how can you love someone who's never there?"

The nation was forced to agree. At this point, the plot's exposition was nearing an end and the rising action was about to commence. "What about the rest of your family?" he asked. "What are they like?"

For a good part of the movie, I went into full explanation of the people I had to spend every day with. I complained about my mom's utter perfection and how it drove me insane. When I mentioned Larry and Jerry, Sadiq was a little shock to find out that homosexuality was not the norm, but he quickly became interested in their little dilemma. I even gave a small mention to Bella and her lack of flaws.

"But what if that is her flaw?" Sadiq asked, licking his spoon.

I raised an eyebrow. "How is perfection a flaw?"

"Have you ever thought about why she might be perfect?"

I let him dwell in the movie (the naked drawing scene was just about to commence) as I thought it over. There was one incident that stuck out in my mind. It was back in sixth grade, before she went Mary-Sue. The day was dark and rainy, adding a dramatic air.

I was walking to school when I found my blonde friend sitting on the curb, crying her eyes red. "What's wrong" I had asked, sticking her underneath my umbrella.

And she told me. For a while, he parents had been fighting. "They were doing it every time they saw each other," she sobbed, wiping the snot from her nose. A while ago, her parents decided to file for divorce. They told her not to tell anybody in fear of rumors starting. But . . . "Yesterday they were going over the custody agreements," she said. "And neither of them wanted me." My elementary school self was speechless. The only think I could think to do was hug her.

Bella was later sacked with her mom, who later turned out to be a lesbian. Her mom found another woman partner with her own daughter who was the same age as my younger brothers. Her father did have her visit him in New York frequently, but that was only after one thing. Her grades had suddenly become perfect, her hair became eternally smooth, and her athletics turned impeccable.

Suddenly, I saw her differently. Bella Moon was no longer my pain-in-the-neck friend. She was my unhealthy-obsession-with-perfection friend. "_That sounds like a cheesy OC profile," I_ thought grimly. Still, I could not help but to feel bad for her. Bad and guilty.

For a while, I concentrated on the love story, fighting the depressing thoughts away. For a while, Sadiq and I were in a silent appreciation for the visuals before us. Jack complimented the way Rose looked, causing Sadiq to knit his brows. I raised one of my own, asking, "What's wrong?"

"I just realized something," he said, not quite believing it himself. He faced me and propped his chin on his hand, saying, "I have no idea how you really look."

My face flushed and I quickly buried it into my soft pillow. "What made you think of that?" I demanded, knowing the answer was the compliment. A _romantic _compliment. I didn't want to think about anything like that with Sadiq. I was in love with Ari for Pete's sake!

Unaware of my worry, he pointed a spoon a Kate Winslet, saying, "I was just thinking how you know how the only image I have of you is Seychelles. It bugs me."

I stared at him. It sounded innocent enough, but I was in a supermodel's body! My real one is dead ugly! I didn't want him to have that kind of an image of me. "It's not important," I said.

_Titanic_ does strange things to a man. Like making him think that it would be a good idea to close the gap between us and wrap a strong arm around me. My blush only grew deeper when I smelled his sweet apple air. "Let me tell you one thing, Sherry," he said, actually sounding comforting. Holy crap, my abuser was not hanging me out a window for once. "I have millions of women living inside of me and - stop smiling like pervert." I wiped the smile off of my face. He glared at me for a moment longer before continuing, "Some of them think that they are beautiful while some of them think that they're ugly. But you want to know something? The ones who think that they're ugly are actually the most beautiful ones of all."

I was, how most fan fiction writers say, 'redder than a tomato'. Once again, I smothered the fluffiness into my face. "Is that so . . ."

Sadiq gave me an unamused look. "Would you stop blushing?" He demanded, only making my embarrassment worse. "I'm gay for God's sake. I have a-" His voice fell dead and a horrific look glinted in his eyes. "-a boyfriend."

I bit my lip. What was wrong with him? Did something happen between him and Poland? Whatever it was, this was 'getting back in the game night'; he should be happy. So, in order to get his mind off of his troubles, I did what I didn't want to do. "I'm a ginger," I said,

He gave me a shocked look. "A ginger?"

I nodded sadly, knowing what I had in store. "Let me guess, 'but gingers have no souls'."

He look unbelievably excited. "No. Rose's a ginger."

I stared at him, not quite sure I believed what he was saying. He liked gingers because of the _Titanic_? What? I smirked, saying, "You have to be the first person who ever thought that being a ginger was a good thing."

"It's just a hair color," he deadpanned. "It doesn't judge who you are as a person. But if you're a ginger, then you must be Celtic."

"Scottish-Irish actually, but I live in America."

"Where?"

"West coast."

"What color are your eyes?" For a while, he listened to me as I tried to clearly define my appearance to him. I ended up being more truthful than I originally intended: I told him about my thick middle and thighs. I ran a hand through Seychelles's hair when I mentioned my forever tangled and curly locks. "Is that everything?" he asked, once I was finished.

I paused, thinking it over. "I have C cup boobs."

A pillow was immediately slammed into my face. "I did not need to know that!" He exclaimed.

I placed my ice cream on the floor and smacked him with a pillow of my own. "Well you wanted to know everything about me!"

"Well not that!" He snatched my pillow from me, leaving me weaponless. "What about tickle spots?" he asked. "Where are you ticklish?"

I gave him a criticizing look, asking, "How is that not a personal question?"

Sadiq's amber eyes turned mischievous. "You have five seconds to tell me or else."

I returned his glint. "Or else what?"

"This." The next thing I knew, he was tackling me, moving his fingers up and down my sides. Not in the perverted way, in the 'I'm going to make you laugh way'. I screamed and laughed uncontrollably. I guess that was one sense I was similar to my mom: ticklish sides. After a minute, I kicked him away.

"What the hell?" I breathed, still laughing under my breath. What was up with Sadiq tonight? For once, he wasn't being such a stick in the mud. What in the world had changed for him?

Sadiq, meanwhile, was laughing triumphantly. "You have the same tickle spots as Greece," he gloated.

"What is your opinion of Greece?" I asked, bringing my ice cream off the floor. When his face softened, I regretted my words. What if it was an untalkable subject?

Still, he must have remembered all the storytelling I did earlier since he actually told me. "He's a pain in my ass," he said, frowning. "That jackass always thinks that he is so much better than I am, but-" His frown curved into a lonesome smile. "When he was younger and living with me, he wasn't half bad. Kind of cute even."

With that, our playful atmosphere was dead and we were back to watching the movie. The scenes dragged on, reaching the climax. Then the fateful "I will never let go" scene came. Let me tell you something, for the past twenty minutes, Sadiq has been mouthing out _every freaking line _in perfect timing. But as Rose slowly discovered Jack's limp body, his face grew solemn. And . . .

"Sadiq, are you crying?" I asked, not actually believing it myself. But sure enough, there were two small streams of tears trailing down his sculpted cheeks.

He looked at me, sniffling loudly. "Don't rub it in," he snapped, wiping his nose. "I do this every time."

I couldn't help but to laugh. "But you've seen this movie a million times! You have to be used to it by now!"

He only shook his head. "No it only makes it worse." I asked him why. The man ate a large spoonful of ice cream as he gathered his thoughts. "Well, it's true love," he explained, his eyes growing distantly thoughtful. "Jack and Rose sacrificed everything for each other and even when Rose left with nothing, she still loved him till the day she died. I just . . . it just brings me to tears."

I thought about what he meant. To him, that was what love was; sacrificing everything. It was very good reasoning, but what had I ever sacrificed for Ari? What did he sacrifice for me? I felt brave enough to ask my mentor a mentor worthy question. Picking nervously at my nails, I asked, "Sadiq, what do you think of me and Ari?"

When he didn't reply, I thought I had to go into more detail. But just as I opened my mouth, he spoke. "I think you are in love," he said.

My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn't believe he just agreed with me. "Really?"

Then he finished his statement. "I believe that you are in love with the idea of being in love." Sadiq gave me a knowing look, lecturing, "I believe that you didn't love him until he said he loved you. And that's because you are a teenage girl. You would love a person just so that you can live in that fairytale romance. It's normal."

I was silent. The facial part of me wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that if it was all just a fantasy then why was I hurting so much? But a different part of me agreed with him. I really hadn't had feelings for him until he admitted to loving me, or worse, I could no longer string him along. I hugged myself. I felt dirty, like a skank.

Like a stupid slut that just threw herself at every single person she met.

Like Mia.

Oh God, Mia . . .

The romantic epic finally ended and we were on the last movie of the night: The _Little Mermaid_. So far, our meeting's purpose was being fulfilled: I was feeling much better. I actually felt confident enough to go get that 'FrUk' kiss. Even so, I bubbled with happiness as the Disney logo appeared.

For the first few minutes, I was perfectly okay. Sadiq made a few sly remarks of my immaturity, but I still quoted the movie like he did with the _Titanic_. Then King Triton came on screen.

"Who is the better father?" I heard my Dad asked. From a vintage memory, I could see him looking down at me with his smiling face and sparkling green eyes. "Me or Triton?"

Mini-Me stretched her small arms up to him, smiling brightly. "You are!" She squealed, giggling when he lifted her into him arms.

Laying next to Sadiq, I placed a hand on my chest. It hurt more than ever. Gary Sue was in the Middle East, reporting acts of terrorism. I was in an alternate universe, trying to be someone I was not. I had not seen him in a long time. At this rate, I was never going to see him again. I should be more concern about not kissing Mom or teasing Larry and Jerry. So why was I getting so worked up by a mere phantom?

Eventually, I was able to bring my attention back to the movie. It was just in enough time to sing "Part of Your World" loudly on the top of my lungs. My next door neighbor (who I knew for a fact to be Hungary) banged on the wall and yelled at me to shut up. Sadiq was rolling his eyes and lightly smacking the back of my head.

Then, one of my favorite villains of all time came on. On the screen, the fat octopus lady started tempting Ariel into signing her soul away. "I love Ursula," I said, voice drowned in awe. "She is just absolutely evil."

The Turk laughed half heartedly. "Yeah, making cheap bargains with people is the worse crime of all." He tried to sound sarcastic, but there was an off tone to him. Like a contrite one. It occurred to me that he had been holding something back all night.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked. I sounded a lot like an overly concerned mother.

He gnawed on the inside of his mouth, thinking to himself. "Actually Sherry, there was something I need your help with." This moment would always be marked in my memory as the first time Sadiq truly trusted me with something. The first time he openly depended on me. "There is something I need to do," he said. "But I'm afraid to do it alone."

Ten minutes later, the movie was on paused and we were meandering down the dark hallways (apparently we were not breaking the curfew, since there was none. Everyone attending the school was around a hundred years old so it really didn't matter). All I knew was that I had to accompany him somewhere. Multiple times, as our heels clicked loudly on the floors, I imagined where it could be. The bar? The clocktower? Where?

As our path took us to the boy's dormitory, I thought that maybe we were going to the Turk's dorm. I could imagine how it looked: a clear version of Seychelles except with random Turkish trinkets decorating the desk and walls.

The dormitory hallway was like the girl's: narrow and lined with door after door after door. Even in the dark, the nation seemed to know where he was going. At last, he stopped by one in particular. "Here we are," he said sully. For a long moment, we just stood there in a frightened silence. I waited for him to do something. Suddenly, his hand shot out and grabbed mine tightly. "Can you introduce me?" He asked. "I can handle it from there; just tell them that I need their help."

I gave him a wide eyed look. I was grateful for the dark- he wouldn't be able to see the heat gathering in my cheeks. _"Why is he so scared?" _I wondered, seeing the silhouette of his down facing visage. "_Who could these people possibly be?" _I threw my courage to the sticking place and bravely knocked on the door.

Anyone want to guess who was on the other side?

"Seychelles, it's past midnight." I tried to keep my cool demeanor as England answered the door. In all truth, I did not see that one coming. I was more prepared to have seen Atila the Hun, not the silly Brit. But sure enough, said Brit was there. He had a fluffy maroon robe wrapped around his lanky frame. His sand-colored hair was messy and he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He didn't seem to notice Sadiq. "What in the Lord's name is a matter?" he asked.

Just as I opened my mouth to play my role, another voice piped up. "My little bunny, did you just say that Seychelles is here?" France appeared at the door . . . wearing nothing. Absu-fricking-nothing. I averted my eyes, trying not to look at the Eiffel Tower. Apparently the rose of censorship did not appear automatically. Well at least they were having sex.

My 'Papa' gave me a concerned look, fully awake and checking me from head to toe. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, sounding a little panicked. "Did something happen?"

The spotlight shined on me. Gulping, I stepped to the side and motioned to my mentor. "England, Papa, this is Turkey," I introduced, trying not to sound awkward. "He wants to talk to you two about something."

England and France exchanged a quick 'oh shit' glance. Both the blonds cleared from the doorway. "Please come in," the green eyed one said. Their dorm was much like mine. The differences I saw were the fact that the window and bathroom had switched places. Pictures of the French scenery decorated the white walls. The bed was a mess and clothes were recklessly strewn across the room. I grinned pervertedly as England quickly cleaned it up.

Meanwhile, France tied a robe around his hairy body. "I have not talked to you in forever, Turkey," he said, pulling up a chair for them both. "I presume that you are doing well?"

Sadiq nodded respectfully. "I'm still not used to being treated like a student all the time," he said. I gawked at him. He sounded rather respectful, like Japan to, well, everyone on the face of this planet.

The other smirked. "None of us are." He leaned back, twirling a wavy lock around his finger. England, in lighting speed, straightened the bed sheets and invited me to sit next to him. I looked between him and Sadiq. He still looked terrified. Retaining a sense of purpose, I chose to sit on the floor next to him and place a hand on his penny loafer. A small motion that sent him comfort and England a curious look.

"But why are you here, Turkey?" The Brit asked. "If it's a student council matter, it could wait until the morning."

He shook his head. "No, it's . . . different." He looked down again. From my angle, I could see the difficulty in his eyes. He was so obviously fighting to spit the words out, but there was something holding him back. His fear made me afraid. Whatever it was, it was big. I found my hand moving from his shoe to Sadiq's hand. I squeezed it, reminding him that I was there. I knew that the 'FrUk' noticed, but I didn't care.

Sadiq looked up, gaining a kind of courage. "France, back during the 1400s, there were many gypsies living in your country, right?"

Seychelles's Papa nodded. "That is correct. Why do you ask?"

He took a long breath. "Did you learn any of their arts?" he asked. Where was he going with this?

The other was thinking the exact same thing. With hesitance, he listed them off: "Fortune telling, palm reading, tarot cards, dancing, hypnosis-"

"I need you to hypnotize me." The air grew heavy. We all gave him looks filled with confusion and shock. Why would he need to do that? I looked up at him, eyes begging to know why. But Sadiq only looked stubbornly at France. If he wanted to be hypnotized, he was going to get it. And we all knew it.

Still, England was the first to ask the reason. The Turk's grip tightened significantly as he sadly explained, "I need to be hypnotized into hating someone."

England raised a thick eyebrow. "Who?"

The answer no one saw coming. "I need to hate Poland."

My head was sent into a spin. All of us were too stunned to say anything. I was speechless, breaking my gaze and darting my eyes around the room. Why would he do that? I could find no reason for him to do something so drastic. Even I knew that Sadiq was madly in love with the Pole. _"So why?"_

"Poland is your boyfriend," France, the first to recover, said. "Why would you want to do that?"

"It's necessary." The couple tried to get him to tell them why, but that was the only reason he gave them. Meanwhile, I sat in stiff silence, unsure of what to think. The crack pairing was finally breaking up, so shouldn't I be happy instead of dreadful? "I'll pay you in any way I can," Sadiq said. "Just please, I beg of you, do this for me."

France bit his lip, thinking to himself. "By having this change made, is the better of the world being kept in the best interest?" he asked, sounding like a mature adult. A mature adult that was, for some reason, interested in the world's well-being. Eh, I wasn't going to question it.

"More than you know."

There was brief silence as he thought it over. At last, he agreed. "Fine. Let's just say that you owe me a favor. England, can you-"

"Can you use this watch?" Sadiq pulled out his sacred pocket watch. Realizing that he might have overstepped his boundaries, he quickly added, "That is, if it's suitable. You don't have too." I could feel the weight and significance of it. It was as if the Turk was silently telling that the jackass was the reason for this eccentric behavior.

The blond look at it for a moment. His blue eyes scrutinized it, checking it for any visible damages. He gently took it from him and clicked it open. The stray hand on its white face was now pointing at the eleven. "Turkey, this is a very beautiful watch," England piped, gazing at it from afar. "Where did you get it?"

Even I was curious to the answer he was going to give. I had always presumed that it was Poland, but who was I to know? Sadiq looked at it was a blank face and lied; "A friend gave it to me."

France clicked it shut and handed it back to him. "Unfortunately, the whole 'hypnosis with a pocket watch' trick is more of a myth than anything." Really? Damn, it would have been so symbolic if he used that watch. What it would symbolize, I had no idea, but it would have been kick ass.

My friend's honey eyes drifted downwards. "I see. My mistake." Gently but protectively, he snatched the pocket watch away and hid it in his pocket. "Let's get this over with."

Like a knight protecting his princess, I refused to release Sadiq's hand as the hypnosis took place. "This is very simple, but requires just a bit of trust," France said, promptly preparing him. "In this state, your conscience will be numbed and your mind will be an open book to read."

"Just don't ask me any personal questions," the other replied. "Do the deed and nothing else."

"That is perfectly understandable. Should Seychelles leave the room?"

I shot my 'Papa' an irritated glare. I would cement my ass to the carpet if I had to; I was not going to miss out on this. Luckily, Seychelles's ass was to be spared. "She'll make sure that you two don't do anything you shouldn't," The Turk said, squeezing my hand.

He was trembling.

I returned the pressure.

France and England exchanged one last look. The tsundere was begging his boyfriend to stop, but he didn't listen. The Frenchman sighed and held the watch up. "Here we go . . ." He scooted his chair closer. "Place your hands on mine," he instructed. His patient slowly released mine and did suit. My palm, though sweaty, felt immediately chilled. With no other option, I placed my hand back on his shoe.

"Look into my eyes and continue looking until I say something." With each command the nation faithfully did as he was told, no emotion on his face. The blue eyes of the hypnotizer were blazing in concentration, making sure he did everything right. "In a moment I am going to count to three. Press down on my hand and I'll be pressing up against your energy and simply follow my instructions instantly."

He took a deep breath. "One . . . two . . . three push, push, push". The hands, idiot, not whatever pervy thought we were both thinking. "I need you to push harder." That time, I had to giggle, causing England to shoot me an acid glare.

France ignored my distraction and placed his hands over Sadiq's eyes, as if shading him from the sun. Slowly, he caressed it downward, completely involved in the fluid movements. "Now as you continue to press down on my hand I want you to develop a feeling in your eyes like you're up much too late at night watching an old black and white movie," France drawled, sounding as gentle and informative as a therapist treading through the mind of a serial killer. "You should go to bed, but you're just so tired. You feel your eyes so droopy . . . and closing . . . and drowsy . . . and . . . _sleep_!"

In a blink of an eye, his hand was slipped away. Sadiq's eyes were closed shut as if asleep, but he was sitting upright as if he was awake. England and I stared at him, realizing that France had really done it- my mentor was in a trance.

But satisfaction was far from earned. France kept his professional atmosphere and continued with his job. "Turkey, you can hear my voice and only my voice," he ordered. "It is the only sound in your world. Only my voice." Sadiq didn't reply, just sat there.

The blonde took a long breath, preparing himself for the actual maneuver. I rubbed my hand over the penny loafers. It was more for my comfort than his. France said, "Turkey, you have known Poland for a very long time. He is a constant well of energy and joy and can never stop talking. That is why you hate him. His optimism drives you insane. The very thought of Poland makes your blood boil. Just mentioning him makes you angry. You would never hurt him, but you will always hate him with a burning passion. Understand?"

Like a mindless drone, my mentor responded, "Understand. I despise Poland."

"You have no memory of every feeling romantic towards him either. You only hate him. You have no memories of dating Poland or having him as your boyfriend. You hate Poland. Understand?"

"Understand."

France visibly shone with relief, allowing a small smile to stretch in his face. "Good. Now-"

"Why did you want to hate Poland?" England suddenly demanded. His eyebrows were furrowed together in concentration.

A flash of protectiveness struck me. "You can't ask him that!" I snapped quickly, rising to my feet. Anger pricked my skin and made my head spin. "He wouldn't tell you before, so-"

"Seychelles, calm down." France didn't move from his spot, only motioned for me to sit down again. "He can only hear my voice, no?" I felt my nerves ease away from the edge and I started to sit back down. "He didn't hear England asking him why he wanted this-"

"Poland was in danger." All of us froze. Sadiq was still in his trance, speaking without thinking. "I acted irrationally and the jackass might hurt him like he hurt me. I couldn't let that happen."

My glares switched between the two blonds. I was going to skin them alive and feed them to Hanatamago. France's eyes went wide with the realization of what he had done and he scrambled for a way to end it. England, however, only had his interest heighten. "And who is this jackass?" he asked, fully aware that he couldn't hear him.

The sweet, innocent look on his face drove me over the edge. "Bastard!" This time, when I jumped to my feet, I didn't hesitate to leap at him and slap him across the face. The Brit spend a split second in surprise before catching me unawares. He grabbed my arms and defensively held them away. I fought against him for a few moments before losing all the fuel my anger had to offer.

Plus, Sadiq was coming out of the trance. How, you may ask? France just stood and bitch slapped him across the face.

Seems legit to me.

The Turk groaned, rubbing his hand along his jaw. "What the hell . . ." he muttered, wincing at the red spot. His eyes traveled around us, trying to work out the puzzling scene before him. He was probably wondering why England was holding my arms while having a similar red, blotchy face. "What's going on?" he asked. "Where am I? What happened?"

My face fell. "_What if he doesn't remember me?" _I was terrified of the very thought of it. If he had no idea who I was, then I was alone in this strange world. I could only silently beg, "_Please remember me."_

"You were just hypnotized," France said, moving his chair back to his desk. "Temporary memory loss is normal after such an intense session."

Sadiq's mouth dropped. "What did you do?" he demanded, glancing over to England and I. His eyes met mine for a split second before returning to the Frenchman. Adjusting his robe, the blond explained to him his own request. He failed to mention our little mishap and Poland having used to be his boyfriend.

Sadiq only shook his head. "But why would I need hypnosis for that?" he demanded. "I already hate Poland with a passion." A vein in his forehead popped with irritation as he rambled, "God, that guy just annoys the daylights out of me. Always happily chirping his 'like's and 'totally's."

His hatred seemed so tangible, that I couldn't help but to be in total awe. I yanked my arms free from the Englishman and approached the Turk. "Well I made sure that those two idiots didn't ask you anything too personal," I said. A small voice in my head told me to test and see if he would believe me. After all, if he knew that I was Sherry Sue, he would have complete faith in me.

Or at least I would like to believe that.

"I'm sure, _Seychelles-" _Yup, he remembered me. There was a knowing glint in his eyes when he said the nation's name. "-that France and England would never attempt to do anything like that. Right?"

The two men grinned sheepishly. "Of course not," England said quickly. "I am a gentleman and no gentlemen goes against his word of honor." Ha, ha, lying bastard.

Sadiq rose to his feet. "Well I think I remember talking to you two about this," he said confidently. I noticed his hand lingering over the pocket the golden watch was in. "France, thank you. If you ever need a favor, just tell me when and I'll do it. But right now it's late and I think that we all need your sleep."

France nodded. "Yes. We have a lot of work in the morning. We have to get ready for the prom on Thursday, no?"

We both grimaced at the thought. Sadiq and I exchanged a few more 'thank you's and 'goodnight's before finally leaving the dorm. The minute we were in the dark hallway, the door shut behind us, we sighed and leaned against the wall. "That was exhausting," I complained, sliding to the floor. My legs felt dead with the lack of energy. It was in the _very _early morning hours and all I wanted to do was to sleep.

Sadiq cracked his neck. "I know." After a minute of regaining the feeling in his legs, he looked at me. The nighttime shadows shield his face from me, but I could sense the smile on it. "Come on Sherry, we need to go to sleep. You have to start getting that kiss tomorrow."

I groaned. If I wanted to, I could just sleep there on the nice, cold wood floors. But this was Mr. I-Like-To-Hang-People-Out-Of-Windows we were talking about. It was either that or a much worse fate.

Like Pilates.

Shiver.

I allowed Sadiq to pull me to my feet tired feet. "I'll walk you back to your room."

For a long time, we walked in a mutual silence. I was afraid to break it, but he seemed rather content in it. That was fine by me; I could start falling asleep as I walked. "Hey Sherry."

And there goes the peace and quiet. "What?"

"Thank you." I paused in my tracks. Sadiq continued a few paces before realizing that I had fallen behind. He stopped a few paces ahead of me and turned. We were in front of one of the grand windows. It framed a picture of a midnight world, the nearly full moon flooding in through the glass.

The white light gleamed on his dark face, showing me his quirked eyebrow. "Is something wrong?" he asked, hands smoothly in his pockets.

In my head, I debated the risks. What he said about the jackass was still nagging me. It seemed to perfectly correspond with what Seychelles said earlier. I wanted to ask him about it, but wouldn't he just push me away? _"He never tells me anything," _I thought grimly, taking a long breath. _"But it wouldn't hurt to try."_

Quelling my fears, I gathered the nerves to confront him. I tried to add a fierce spark in my voice and eyes. "Sadiq, you've been acting strange," I said, treading carefully. His eyebrow only rose higher. So far, so good. "Is something wrong?"

He stared at me blankly for a moment, registering my question. If he had any consideration in telling me, he ignored it. "Nothing's wrong, Sherry. Why do you ask? Was it the movies?"

I shook my head. "No, I get why you did that. I mean . . ." I trailed off.

The Turk's steps were as clear as day, though I didn't realize that he was moving until he was looming above me. I gulped and cowered into myself. He looked extremely intimidating. "Sherry, what is it?" he asked again, sounding calm, but deadly.

" . . . What did you do?" His eyes grew wide. I paused, unsure of whether I should push more. He hasn't hurt me yet, so why not? "You said that you screwed up and now the jackass-"

It didn't register that he was choking me until my back was slammed painfully into the glass windows. I tried to scream out, but my restricted airways wouldn't allow me. It hurt. The edges of my vision were turning fuzzy and it was hard to concentrate. Sadiq glared at me, unrelenting and unmerciful. "Who told you that?" he demanded, pulling me off the plane just to throw me back against it. "Damnit, who fucking told you?"

Clawing at his hand, he finally loosened enough for me to spit out a sound. " . . .Y-you. . . di . . .d." I held my eyes shut, afraid to look at him any longer. This was not a good idea. Damnit, what the hell gave me the stupid idea in the first place?

Suddenly, his hand was gone. I slid to the floor, coughing and regaining my breath. Sadiq was staring down at me, horrified at himself. He was panting as heavily as I was coughing. _"The worst is over," I_ told myself, curling into a ball on the wood floors. "_He wouldn't do it again."_ I had to admit, what he did next was bad, but at least it didn't nearly kill me.

Sadiq knelt and grabbed my shirt collar. He roughly lifted me, making sure that I was staring him straight in the eyes. "When did I tell you this?" he growled. I didn't answer, only held my eyes shut and cried salty tears. He shook me. "Answer me!"

"In your trance. When France asked you about your feelings on Poland, you started muttering about it." It was a lie, but at that point I just wanted him to stop. There was a few seconds where the only movement was from my tears.

Then his chest was in my face. Another ring of fear sung through my body. What the hell was he doing? Was he trying to suffocate me? It wasn't until he was chanting "I'm sorry" did I realize what was going on. He wasn't hurting me; he was hugging me.

"I'm sorry, I overreacted," he said, speaking into my mass of hair. "I wasn't thinking." For a minute, neither of us did anything but sit there. Sadiq must have been waiting for me to say something, but I never did. I only cried in self pity.

It seemed like forever before he started explaining himself. "To answer your question, yes, I did screw up. I got angry and I did something I shouldn't have and now that jackass is mad at me." He ran his hand through the ends of my hair, pressing his wry smile into my scalp. "I was worried about it hurting someone, but I can't remember who." The smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

"As part of my punishment, he took away most of our tries," he said. My attention was sparked. The serious weight of the situation paused my tears and made me look at him. The moon shadowed the guilty look on his face. "Sherry, we only have two more left."

I stopped breathing. My body started to tremble in fear. "What happens if we don't win?" I sniffled, looking up at him. Seychelles's brown eyes were large and pleading to know the answer.

Sadiq looked down at me, pressing his lips together. His eyes were tired, full of unthinkable pains and struggles. He sighed. "I don't want to think about it."

It was silent. Still sniffling, I wiped away the remains of my tears. The whites of my eyes were as red as blood. "Then we'll just have to win," I told him, putting on a mask of fake confidence. A forced smile grew on both of our faces. "Let's just show that jackass how much of an idiot he is."

His only response was a shallow laugh. Slowly, I rose to my tired feet, stretching out the kinks in my bones. Immediately, I was bombarded with the view to the dark outside. To me, its milieu seemed like a Disney movie set. The full moon, strictly kept landscape, lit up clock tower . . .

"_Hold on." _Two words stuck themselves into my head. "_Idiot. . . clock tower . . . why is that important? Wasn't there- shit." _I smacked my forehead, groaning.

"What's wrong?" Sadiq asked, frowning.

Like molasses in winter, I slowly ran my hand down the front of my face. "I told a depressed Italy to go jump off the clock tower." He looked at me, face palmed, and beckoned me to follow him.

Ten bush minutes later, we were coming upon the entrance of the tower. "Do you think he really did it?" I asked, trailing a step behind my mentor. For some reason, I didn't feel half as worried as I should have been. Maybe it was because I was so sleepy? Or because the Italian in question was just stupid?

Still, Sadiq shrugged. "I hope not. Finland would be rather upset."

I sighed. "Let me guess, another crack pairing?"

"It's not crack if they love each other," he huffed. "And besides, if Finland's upset then we get no Christmas presents."

With an eye roll, "And what? You wouldn't get any new _Titanic _merchandise?"

I winced when he smacked the back of my head. "I knew it was a bad idea to show you that movie," he grumbled, crossing his hands over his chest.

"And yet, you still did." He glared at my smug visage.

He started muttering about how much he hated me when his handsome face made sharp contact with the floor. I couldn't help myself; I broke into a fit of laughter. Lifting half of himself up, his eyes spoke of terrible crimes. "Stop laughing," he snapped.

I clutched my side. "Why?" I demanded, still laughing my ass off. "That was hilarious!"

"More than you fainting after being kissed?"

My voice instantly fell dead. He just had to go there, didn't he? I scowled at him, admitting defeat to his triumphant smirk. "Bastard," I muttered, dropping the subject. My mind struggled for something besides his gloating face to occupy itself with.

"What did you trip over anyways?" I asked, noticing for the first time that there was something at our feet. I bent and pushed his legs off of it. My hand wanted to make contact with my face. Again. "Turkey, I found Italy."

Sadiq flipped onto his butt and moved to get a better look. In the pallid moonlight, we could make out the Italian's auburn hair and single curl. He was curled up in a ball, snoring light 'vee's. The Turk rubbed his temple, fighting a headache, before nudging at the man. "Wake-up," he ordered, shaking his arm. The siesta continued.

It was one of those moments where my knowledge of the Hetalia universe actually came in handy. I leaned into his face and said, "Italy, wake-up before Germany makes you run laps."

"Not that!" The Italian jumped to life, shooting up faster than a mentos in a bottle of coke. His skull made hard contact with mine. Yelping, I fell back, holding the hurt area and moaning in pain. Italy dittoed.

Sadiq pointed at me and laughed.

I snapped for him to shut-up.

"Ow, that hurt!" Italy mewled, crying freely. He looked at us with teary eyes and started wailing. "I promise not to slack off again!" He cried, waving his hands this way and that. "I promise to do all the chores that I'm supposed to, just _please _don't tell Germany! He'll be mad!"

Sadiq and I exchanged unbelieving looks. His headache grew stronger whereas one of my own started. Taking a deep breath, the Turk grimaced. "We're not going to tell Ger-"

The brunette jumped over to me. "Seychelles, I tried to jump off the clock tower like you said," he chirped quickly, not even stopping to breathe. "But the door was locked so I just started walking and I guessed that I fell asleep while doing it. What time is it?" The oblivious look on his cute face told me that he had no idea that it was suicide.

I gave him a disturbed look. I had barely processed half the things he said. And by the confused look on Sadiq's, I'll say neither did he. Doing my best to hold my patience, I placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Just past midnight. Can you do me a favor and forget about the clock tower?" I asked. "For like, ever?"

Italy smiled. "Okey-Dokey!"

The Turk eased himself, sighing contently. He rose and made to walk away. I was about to follow him, but . . . "Italy, why were you so sad earlier?" I asked.

The garrulous one frowned and grew teary eyed. "My boyfriend left me for Greece!' He started wailing, crying a thick waterfall of tears. My mentor and I exchanged a look. He was telling me not to get involved, but I was telling him that I wanted to. But the Italian wasn't quite done yet. "What's worse, I really like someone else!"

I forced a smile. "How is that I bad thing?" I asked. "If you like someone else, then it would just be easier for you to move on."

Italy fiercely shook his head. You know, it feels weird using that adverb with him. There was nothing very fierce about him. Even when he was mad, he was as cheerful as a bubble. Heck, his 2P version was a sadistic, _smiling, _creep. "But he's a straightie!" He bawled, hugging his knees.

A false hope planted itself in my heart. "Is it Germany?" I asked eagerly, looking down at him with anticipation.

He shook his head. "No. Prussia."

I sighed. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sadiq motioning for me to get my butt moving. But I couldn't. Not now. I was strangely intrigued by the great fan fiction plot before me. Seriously, this felt like Larry and Jerry's problem, except without the incest and what not.

And hey, it was 'PruIta'. That was an uncommon pairing, but it wasn't crack!

Smiling, I extended a hand out to him. "How about Sadiq and I help you," I said happily.

Not a second later, my partner in crime was pulling me aside, looking pissed as shit. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, knitting his brows in frustration.

I shrugged. "Helping a poor soul."

"We have better thing to be concentrating on." he hissed. "Have you already forgotten that we are on a tight schedule here?" Actually I had. But I was not going to let him have the satisfaction of being right.

Like the perfect person I wished I was, I had a retort on hand. "Think of this as a hook-up strategy. As we fix Italy's love life, France and England would notice how much time I'm spending with him, get the wrong idea, and become jealous. Thus- if they want to keep me -they'll be forced to confess their love by the end of the prom."

Sadiq buried his face in his hands. "That's crazy," he muttered. "In what universe would that actually work?"

"The same one that has human personifications of countries," I smoothly responded. He still didn't look convinced. "Look, the very least, it'll trip the jackass up. He'll think that we'll be concentrating on the mission instead of doing something like this." At the mention of the enemy, Sadiq tensed significantly. Pointing the tips of my mouth into a smile, I pressed my hands together in prayer. "Please?

At last, he sighed. "Just get that damn kiss."

Grinning, I squealed and clasped both of his shoulders. I leaned in and . . . I quickly stopped myself. His displeased self didn't seem to notice what I just did; he was only giving me the stinkeye. Luckily, the dark lighting made it impossible to see the blush on my cheeks. _"Sherry, what the hell were you thinking?" _I mentally kicked myself. "_You nearly just kissed him!"_

Before things grew too awkward, I gave him a quick hug, said a fast 'thank you', and marched over to Italy. As I proudly announced our new involvement, a new bug was biting my mind.

On one hand, I was a slut with Ari.

On the other, I nearly just kissed a gay man.

"_What the hell is wrong with me?"_

* * *

**BFTL: **This chapter just feels off to me.

**SEK: **That's probably because this is the only chapter where Sherry and Sadiq actually talk like normal people. . . yeah . . . Ari's coming back next chapter . . .er, this chapter basically set up the rest of the story . . . we love you all!

**BFTL: **And review! How much longer can we do the- I suddenly remember what I was going to say!

**SEK: **Do tell the world.

**BFTL: **Wolf had to do a crap ton of research for this chapter. She had to look up how to hypnotize someone and what happened in the _Titanic, _because she is the only teenage girl to have never seen that movie. That is all. REVIEW!

**FunFacts and Translations**

"Like Mia" Reference to Love Sucks. There's an OC by that name that acts like a total slut. Go read it since apparently, I'm living on the edge by posting it illegally on this site :D

**Next Chapter: **Sherry plays match maker as she tried to restore the title character's love life.

****REVIEW FOR THE SAME REASON DOUG HID UNDER THE PORCH: BECAUSE YOU LOVE ME****


	9. The Romance of Frank Sinatra

****Sisko and Blue take over the Fangirl AN- Day 32****

**SEK: **Long time, no update! Sorry peeps, but MW was actually on a trip to New York for a weekend and she had to write this oneshot . .

**BFTL: **SISKO! WHEN IS WOLFIE COMING BACK TO THE AN? IT'S SO HARD TO WRITE THESE THINGS!

**SEK: **Here's the thing, she is actually enjoying watching us suffer through writing these. Those she promises to return once we hit 100 reviews (and with the freaking large number we're thankfully at now, that shalln't be long).

**BFTL: **Good. And yeah, this feels like another off chapter for some unknown reasons. But don't forget the review! If you don't like the chapter or where the story's going, then tell us so that we can get back on track!

**Important Message for the readers of Love Suck: **Due to the fact that LS was written in second person and it goes against site rules, someone reported it and the FF admins removed it. I was unfortunately in NYC at the time and had my mind on other things like shopping. But the series is still being continued on deviantArt and everyone's request is going to be fulfilled. Link to our account is in our profile.

**Chapter Summary: **With the long await return of a well liked character, Sherry makes some discoveries of her own. Meanwhile, Sadiq and the Voice meet again.

**Warnings: **The usual strong language, sexual themes, yaoi, mentioned yuri, and very slight OC X canon

**Disclaimer: **We do not own Hetalia and the other fandoms mentioned in this chapter. We do, however, own the poem used.

* * *

**~Chapter 9~**

**The Romance of Frank Sinatra  
**

"_I love you, and because I love you, I would sooner have you hate me for telling you the truth than adore me for telling you lies..."_

_**-Pietro Aretino, Italian Author**_

* * *

**Cycle 11: Tuesday**

" . . . and that's why I think you're hiding something from me," Germany finished at last. It was after school and I should have been making my way to the student council room, but guess who had to show his face? That's right, Mr. Constipation. In the middle of the hallway, the blond had grabbed my arm and demanded that he talked to me. By that, he had meant to list off every strange thing I did yesterday to finish with that fateful sentence.

Remembering the little suicide incident we had two cycles ago, I decided that it would be morally wiser to just grin and bear through it. That is, until the time for my ingenious plan was at its dawn.

I tugged on my scarf, glad that I at least had an ingenious plan on hand. I only wish that it wasn't so warm inside. Remember how Sadiq kind of choked me last night? Well the consequence had been me waking up to find a severely you-must-obviously-be-abused bruise. So a scarf it was until the cursed thing went away.

"I understand Germany," I cheerfully chirped. The time for my plan was now. "But I want to talk to you about something important." The blond raised an eyebrow as I grabbed his arm and yanked his ear to my lips. "I heard that Taiwan is a straghtie in the closet." Yeah, yeah total lie but it was the only way to get him away without driving him over the edge.

He gave me a criticizing side glance. "What does that have to do with me?" he demanded. "There is nothing wrong with wanting to be in the closet."

"I heard she has a crush on you," I hinted, winking at him. A deep blush tinted his cheeks at the very thought. "I say that you just spend a little extra time with her this week, get her used to the idea of being hetrosexual and when the prom's over you can come back to me- that is, if you want too."

Instead of the devious reaction I was aiming for, the blond frown. Hopeless distress glinted in his eyes. He asked, "Seychelles, are you trying to break up with me?" Shit.

Sweat dropped down my back. Shit, that was _not _the response I wanted. Thinking like Seychelles, I quickly pecked his cheek. "Of course not silly," I giggled, trying to act cute. Truthfully, I think that I was acting like a total seventh-grader-trying-to-be-a-slut, but who was I to judge? "I'm just trying to be a good person and possibly make some girl's night."

His look was still condescending. I flashed a bright smile. "Please? For me?"

Germany groaned. "Fine. But are you really okay with going to the prom by yourself?"

"I'll find a friend to go with." I started pushing him down the hall. "Now go and find her!"

He waved me off. "I'm going, I'm going." A bubble of happiness welled in my gut as he ran off to do what he was told. If anyone here had the option of dating a Hetalia character, chose Germany. He is such a sucker for the ladies; he would listen and obey every single command you give like. . . Like the gentleman England always tried to be.

Smiling to myself, I started to walk to the student council room. All's well that ends-

"How did you know that Taiwan is straight?"

I jumped and moved into kung-fu tiger stance. To my left was Ari leaning against the wall as he idly pet his puffin. A cool, but confused look was on his _gorgeous _face. My heart thumped loudly in my chest and my face turned red. I released my pose and laughed nervously. "I'm sorry," I said. "I just didn't see you there . . ."

Ari sighed. "Can you just answer my question?" he asked, annoyed.

I blinked. "What question?"

He groaned and banged his head against the wall. Under his breath, he muttered something about the female race in general being stupid. He repeated, "How did you know that Taiwan is straight? She's extremely careful about making sure that no one knows that."

In my mind, I was fist pumping. Boo-yah! Now Germany wouldn't freak out because I was wrong! But on the darker side, I had to explain how I knew that. I scratched the back of my head. " . . . She, um . . .told me?"

Before the Icelandic man could reply, two small arms wrapped themselves around my waist. "Good afternoon Seychelles!" Italy sang, dancing around me as though I was a goddess. Which would be totally awesome. I could frolic across Tokyo in a Sailor suit. "Are we going to start now?" he asked, looking up at me brightly.

"Start?" It took a second for me to realize what he was talking about. Then (to Ari's utter confusion), I smiled. "Of course I am! Have you at least tried talking to Prussia today?"

As Italy spilled a long, overly detailed story about how he said hello during breakfast that morning, the silver haired man kicked off the wall. "What are you two planning?" he asked, rightfully expecting the worst.

I opened my mouth, ready to tell him every detail of our deal, but a wary feeling stopped me. It was just a small voice, ordering me to be more careful with whom I chose to trust. And frankly, after the whole heart break incident, I did not feel ready to trust him. Italy, however, thought otherwise. Before I could slap a hand over his pie hole, the little Italian man was telling him everything he wanted to know and more. I facepalmed, already hearing the Icelandic telling me that it was total bullshit.

But Ari was just one of those people you can never predict.

"That's rather interesting," he said thoughtfully, habitually petting his puffin. "Do you two have any plans on how you're going to turn Prussia gay?" I gave him a confused look. He was going to help me?

Italy smiled, chirping, "Nope! I'm just listening to everything Seychelles tells me to do!"

The silver man looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "So what _is _your plan?" he asked, trying to sound as though he could care less.

You know, I had not really thought about it. I went to sleep last night the moment I laid down on my bed. Then during school, all I could do was doodle and scold myself for nearly going all Hooker-Sherry on Sadiq last night. Trying to give Italy a love life was the last thing on my mind.

So I just said the first speech that came to me. "My plan is a simple one," I recited noblely. "My plan is love. If we try hard enough, love will be the only weapon we will need. Love shall be the dove's wings that flies us to our-"

"You have no idea what the hell you're doing, don't you?" I glared at him. He just had to say that, didn't he? I was going to snap at him for ruining my speech, but his violet eyes had a no nonsense glint to them. I huffed. And I love him why?

Oh yeah, because when he liked me, he was such an adorable little chibi! Just thinking about his forever lost smile made me collapse into a fangasm. A grin made of content, goofy, and smug feelings stretched over my face.

Luckily for me, Ari did not notice. Instead, he placed a sure hand on Italy's shoulder. "It seems as though I'm going to have to give you two a hand with this," he said simply.

The brunette squealed, hugged him, and kissed his cheeks. "Thank you!" He yelled, ignoring Ari's objections to being intimately touched. ""Thank you very much!" He wrapped his legs around his waist in a glomp and continued kissing him.

I tried not to laugh when the pale one shot me a desperate look. "_Help me," he_ mouthed, trying to peel the love leech away. The overall scene was pitiful.

I laughed, adjusting the bag on my shoulder. "I think I'll just leave you two-"

"Get off, Italy." Said man jumped away, crying and standing in an erect soldier's stance. I silently cursed, realizing that Sadiq was standing just a few feet from us, rolling his eyes and looking very annoyed. For the first time in like, forever, he was not wearing any obnoxious pink accessories. The idea of him hating Poland now made my heart ache. And they were such a cute couple . . .

Ari smoothed his hair and straightened his blazer. His forever stoic mask covered up most of the embarrassment from his face. Still, there was a slight red tint in his cheeks. "Thanks Pops," he muttered, dusting off his pajama pants. "So, um . . . what are you doing here?"

Sadiq shrugged, knocking down the hood to his green hoodie. "Just wandering around."

A random thought occurred to me. Since he no longer had to worry about keeping his boyfriend happy, he had all the time in the world to be stalking me. "_Well that's just fucking great," _I thought irritably. "_I bet he even has cameras in the shower. Maybe Liechtenstein would let me use hers. . ."_

My mentor gained his mature stature and propped arms akimbo. Fists on his hips, that kind of makes him sound like a professional belly dancer. Trying to push that half-disturbing-half-sexy image from my mental theater, I zoned in on what he was saying. "Italy, if Iceland is going to offer his services to you, you have to respect his personal space," he scolded, sounding like a great parent. Which he probably was. I mean, he had to raise both Greece and TRNC. "Understand?"

The smaller one pouted, large orbs brimming with uncried tears. "But what's so wrong with hugs?" he whimpered, lower lip trembling.

A depressed aura surrounded the Nordic. "You're just so strong," he muttered, a cold hand searching his abdominal for abs that weren't there. "Even someone as lazy as you is so much stronger than me . . ."

Aw! "_He even did that in one of the Christmas strips," I_ silently squealed. If you did not find that cute then you have no heart! I efficiently suppressed my inner fangirl and patted a sure hand on his back. "Don't worry," I said brightly. "I bet you'll get stronger someday."

For the first time in a long while, Ari smiled kindly at me. "Thanks Seychelles." In returned I copied his smile, a warm feeling bubbling in my stomach. I could have lived in that moment forever.

Then Sadiq happened.

"Seychelles, don't you have to go help France and England today?" he demanded, glaring at my insolent ways. Was it just me or was he in a pissier mood than usual?

I ground my teeth together, reminding myself not to lash out at him. "I nearly forgot," I replied emotionally, as if I was reciting it from a piece of paper. "Thank you for reminding me, Turkey. I better go do that now."

In the same manner, he replied, "Here, let me come with you, Seychelles. I have to do something on that side of the school anyways." Ari gave us an odd look as we strutted away together. He muttered something about Pops turning into a weirdo before resuming his original mission.

It was not until we turned the corner did both of us roll our eyes and groan. "What the hell were you doing?" Sadiq demanded, giving me the stink eye.

"I could ask you the same thing," I snapped easily. Just as quickly, I realized that it was not the time to be arguing with him. We had one cycle after this; we had to make the best of now. As he stretched his arms, simmering with unmentioned anger, I sighed in defeat. "You're more pissed than usual," I said bluntly. "Did something happen?"

Sadiq was turning into the rather talkative person since he actually decided to tell me. "Yeah, that stupid Poland guy keeps on harassing me," he said. "Every single time I was trying to get some alone time, he would just pop out of nowhere and try talking to me." He groaned again. "God I hate him."

A sick feeling bubbled in my stomach. Now that they were no longer a couple, I was actually starting to miss the crack. It seemed as though every time Sadiq wasn't with me (or stalking me), he was with Poland.

Oh, but his rant was far from over.

"And something really strange happened when I got up this morning," he continued unaware of my aching heart. "I discovered that one of my dresser drawers was filled with nothing but obnoxious pink accessories. I don't even want to know why the hell I had _that . . ."_

By now, I was extremely grateful that the student council room was upon us. Forcing a fake smile, I practically sprinted to the large door. My mentor merely rolled his eyes and continued his calm walking.

"Well it was nice talking to you," I stated briskly, a hand already on the knob. "I'll see you later."

He nodded, leaning against the wall opposite of me. "I'll be out here." He took out a fancy IPod (product placement!) and stuck the white buds into his ears.

My visage was that of disbelief. "_He mustn't have anything better to do," _I figured, dropping the subject. My eyes flickered to his Apple product. "_At least he's not obsessing over that watch anymore." _ Without another delay, I went inside.

I did not make it past the doorway. Luckily, the two blondes were not in the middle of a make-out-sex secession. No, they were actually doing something mildly productive. I stared in shock as books of every color and size were scattered like a two foot deep ocean at my feet. France and England were on their knees, laboriously stacking them into neat piles.

The Brit- not bothering looking at me -gave his usual greeting. "Hello Seychelles, how has your day been?"

"What happened here?" I asked, searching for a pathway to walk on. The door was still open (If I closed it, there would be no place left for me to stand) and Sadiq was peering in at us curiously. "Why are there books everywhere?"

Green eyes shone with embarrassment as his struggled to find a way to explain. But where the world fails at explanations, the French are always there to be blunt. "We were having sex yesterday and we knocked over the bookshelf," he explained, smiling fondly. "We're just now getting around to cleaning it up."

Mimicking his smile, I looked around the room. The wall directly beside the door had a large, wood book shelf. Most of said shelves were emptied. "Hm, I never noticed that there," I commented dryly. "But I suppose that I need to help you two clean it up."

France nodded. "That would be greatly appreciated, dear. Just step on the _Twilight _books to get over here."

"_Twilight _books?" I repeated, knitting my eyebrows together. There was a straight line of the four cursed objects leading from the door to the clear area. "Why are these here?"

"America gave them to me," England mumbled, still red and flustered from his boyfriend's explanation. "He said that they would be the next _Harry Potter_. So far, the only useful purpose they have is being our stepping stones in and out of this place."

The perverted smile on my face grew wider. _Twilight _was shit in this universe as well!Oh my God, that is one of the greatest things I've heard in a while. I was starting to think that whatever the norm in the real world would be the extremities in this one and vise versa. Practically jumping in joy, I pulled my bag closer to myself and started using the 'stepping stones'. That felt so good, you people need to try it as well. Just go to the bookstore and step on them; I'm sure the employees wouldn't mind.

"So what do you two need me to do?" I asked, squishing the flower on the _New Moon _cover.

England pointed to their stacks of books. "Right now we're organizing them by author's last name."

On clear ground, I looked over our Herculean task. "Do we really have to?" I moaned, already feeling my back ache from hard work. "Wouldn't it just be easier to stick them on the shelves in random order like _normal _people?"

"That's what I told him," France piped, ignoring the other blond's angry glare. "But apparently we have to be able to find every book easily." With that, I resigned myself to start my job. Going onto my hands and feet, I picked up a book (_Jane Eyre_) and placed it on the right part of the stack.

"Well having a little bit more help would be greatly appreciated," England snapped, sounding just as pissed as Sadiq.

France sighed, "Yes I know." For a few tedious minutes, the only sound was us taking a book and placing it in the right spot. Many times I got distracted, flipping to a random page and reading a few sentences. Then Mr. Stick-In-The-Mud would demand that I gain an attention span and get back to work.

"Wait, I have an idea." The Brit and I paused and we rolled our eyes. Irritably, he asked what the other might possibly be thinking. "I know someone who owes me a favor," France said mischievously, quirking his suggestive eyebrows. Cupping his mouth, he called out to the open doorway, "Turkey! I can see you out there! Come in and help us!"

I looked out to the hall to see said man pressed his lips together in distaste. I expected him to object, claim that he had better things to do. But instead, he moved away from the wall and took his headphones out of his ears. "Sure thing," he said nonchalantly. Coolly, he walked over the stupid romance books that shall not be named as they were meant to be trampled. "I did give you my word."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, like you always keep your word."

I ignored his hateful look as France smiled like a sleaze bag. "It's nice to have you here," he said. "You will, of course, be coming in to help us all week, my little bunny and I need the help, non?"

As Sadiq frowned in annoyance, the uke realized where he was going and quickly nodded. "It's rather busy with the prom this Thursday," he explained. "It would be greatly appreciated if you were here to help us _and _Seychelles." I raised an eyebrow. Why the hell did he over exaggerated the 'and'? Were they planning something?

If the Turk noticed it, the he feigned ignorance. "That is perfectly fine with me. It's not as though I have anything better to do."

I wanted to take the hard cover copy of _Notre Dame de Paris _and smash my head into it. Great, now I would have to spend even _more _time with him. _"What if I really do kiss him?" _I wondered, dark face turning into a deep red. "_Oh God, I'm going to die!"_

During my irrational fretting, the three males had completely engulfed themselves in a conversation. Topic of choice? Boyfriends. ". . . So you haven't dated anyone since then?" England asked, taking careful note of the mentor's statement. Crap, I feel as though I missed something extremely important.

Sadiq shook his head. "Never saw the point," he replied. "But what about you two? Have you guys been doing well?"

France smiled enthusiastically. "Of course we have!" He lied, flouncing over to me. Seychelles's papa wrapped two strong arms around me, squeezing me as tightly as China squeezes his Hello Kitty doll. "My daughter made a beautiful decision to set us up together!"

Whoa, whoa, WHOA! Hold it right there, mister! Did the hormone high Frenchie just say what I just think he just said? Did he literally confirm that Seychelles, the bane of every Hetalia fangirls' existence, created the 'FrUk' in the first place?

What the fuck is this sorcery!

Seriously, what the fuck?

My mind shut down, rendering me completely useless. I laid there in my 'papa's' arms, unable to move my limbs. My brain was on error mode that only a Geek Squad dude could fix it. I felt someone poke my cheek. "My dear, are you alright?" Someone asked, sounding concerned.

"Maybe we should take her to Nurse Pangaea," another man suggested.

Surprisingly, Sadiq's voice was the only one I was able to immediately identify. "She'll be fine," he said. "Just place her in a corner and she'll snap out of it."

Brain slowly turning back into a virgin (you know, cause I'm un-fucking it?), my lips moved and started forming words. "No, no, I'm fine. I just need to, um, get some air."

"Sadiq should take you!" France suggested quickly as England forced said man to his feet. The other did the same with me. My legs felt weak and ready to collapse at any moment. "I don't think you two talk to each other much so this will be a great opportunity to bond!"

"That won't be necessary," Sadiq declined, backing away from the thick eyebrows. His honey eyes flashed to me, begging for some help. I, meanwhile, was at a loss of what I should do. "We've had our fair share of talking, you should take her, England."

I nodded in agreement. "Um, yes, um . . ." You want to know what happened next? Well after a long dry spell, Seychelles was kicking her butt back into gear and Hooker-Sherry was back in commission.

My whole body drowned in the gross numb feeling as I purposefully fell into the British man's toned chest. "No, can you take me, England?" I asked, sounding like a kawaii desu Mary-Sue OC with no spine that you would find in an episode of _Ouran Highschool Host Club. _With an adorable pout, "I would feel _much _safer if _you _were to take me."

On the inside, I was sighing in relief. "_Thank you so much, Seychelles!"_

"_Why the hell did you just freeze up like that?" _The nation demanded. Her voice, mostly likely since she was concentrating on convincing England to take me. "_What was so significant about that?"_

"_I just didn't see it coming," _I replied honestly. "_Everyone believes that you are against the yaoi." _She did not answer even though she was still talking on the outside. Looking back, I realized that it was because I was reminding her of the fandom that hated her.

Eventually, France swooped in and saved our ass(es). "I think Seychelles is right," he said smoothly. A look of relief washed over Sadiq's face. "Besides-" he wrapped a slimy arm around his shoulder. "-I do believe that Turkey and I need to have a little talk."

Whatever this 'talk' was about, England caught on very quickly. "You two go do that," he said, supporting my on his hard shoulder. "I'll be back soon, okay?" He carefully guided me over the books, making sure that I stepped on the worthless crap. At this point, Seychelles's hold on me was disappearing and I could move again. But thinking back to all those shitty OC X Canon stories, I decided to continue with the weak act.

The last thing I saw before we entered the hallway was Sadiq's oddly impressed look. He had no idea Seychelles and I were in contact; he fully believed that I came up with that all by myself. In the long run, it would probably be better that way.

"Are you hurt anywhere?" England asked as he half carried me down the hallway. Green eyes were blazing with concern as I limped beside him. Unlike all the other times before, his concern did not have my cheeks afire. Maybe it was because I was so used to it. Perhaps it was because of my love for Ari.

Whatever it was, it helped to keep my cool.

"I feel very light headed and the world is spinning," I moaned, sounding as weak as possible. Yeah, the sex appeal Seychelles had was gone, but at this point I didn't think England would see anything 'sexy' even if it was Ukraine pole dancing shirtless.

As expected, his worry was already on max. "If you're light headed, then I should carry you," he stated before scooping me safely into his arms bridal style. An image of Hungary doing the exact same thing to Austria came to mind. Well, Hetalia does have _the _best fanart.

I wish people would draw me some of that.

Anyways, I took the opportunity to snuggle closer to his chest, admiring how toned and warm it was. I felt sheltered, like a precious jewel under high security. I allowed myself to drift in the cherished warmth of it for a moment. Then Sir. Eyebrows had to talk.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked, looking down at me with honor and chastity. God, that sounded so cheesy. I slowly nodded, wondering what he had to tell me. What he did was not very welcomed. "Even though you consider France to be your father, I just want you to know Seychelles that I also look at you as my own daughter."

I wanted to facepalm so badly. Well that was just freaking fantastic! "_Seychelles, what the hell am I supposed to say to that?" _I asked. Naturally, she did not answer. "_Coward!" _

Faking a cough, I buried my face in my hands, asking, "And what brought this confession on?"

"Oh, um . . ." England took an arm from under me to scratch his nose. For the instant the support was gone, I was impressed that he was able to hold me with one arm. Then I remembered that I was not in my chubby normal body and in one of a supermodel. He gathered his words and explained, "France and I are, um, trying something new this week and I just wanted to let you know that it is because we both love you equally."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Are you two getting divorced or something?" I demanded.

"What?"

"That kind of sounded like the opening words to a divorce battle."

Before he had any chance to deny it, a strong song met our ears. The mellifluous words drifted down the halls and met our ears. We both looked around for its source, caught in its high. "That sounds beautiful," I breathed. "Who is that?"

England shrugged. "I don't know, but we really should be getting you to the infirmary."

I shook my head. "No, let's go look for it." When he frowned, I pleaded a smile. "Pretty please?"

At last he sighed. "Fine but if you start to feel sick at all, just tell me and I'll take you to Nurse Pangaea." We meandered to the source, searching for its beautiful singer. After a couple more verses, we found him in the bar's general area.

It was Italy, a guitar in his hand and singing with earnest joy. A small crowd was watching him, but one really stood out: Prussia. His arms were folded over his chest and his large foot was tapping to the beat. An appreciative look was on the most awesome character's face.

Smiling, my eyes traveled to Ari. He was standing off to the side like us. He leaned against the wall, smirking in cool victory. "Iceland, did you do this?" I asked eagerly.

As England asked what he had to do with this, the man I loved nodded. "Sure did." A prideful look glinted in his oddly colored eyes as he explained, "After much discussion, Italy agreed that the quickest way to a man's heart was though beauty and I suggested that he sang a song." Not that I was complaining or anything, but as a Hetalia fangirl, I would have thought that Italy would have sang his own "Germany" song.

Remember that? Good times, good times.

England huffed, "Well that explains why it's Frank Sinatra."

I gave him a confused look. "Who's that guy?" The Brit gave me a heart shattering look, as if to ask 'how the hell do you not know who he is?'

But the song was ending and the small audience was giving an enthusiastic round of applause. The singer smiled cutely, looking up at his crush. "Vee, did you like it Prussia?" he asked, rubbing his instrument in comfort.

The albino smiled and laughed his signature 'Keseseses'. "That's great, Italy-dear!" He congratulated, patting him strongly on the back. Ari and I exchanged looks. If you called a guy 'dear' you were definitely gay. "You should do a duet with Liechtenstein one of these days!" We both silently groaned. Then again, that was part of his character profile.

The Prussian turned to his girlfriend. "Hey! You two should do one now!" He said. Gently, he grabbed her arm and pulled onto the stage area. The poor blond was red and embarrassed. Her skinny legs were shaking nervously as she looked at the other nations with stage fright. "C'mon hun! Sing the song that awesome guy wrote!" The audience clapped in agreement and encouragement (well, everyone except Belarus, but she's a party pooper).

Liechtenstein looked around in anxiety. For some reason, the 'awesome guy' he mentioned only made her more unsure. "Do you think he'll mind?" she asked.

Her boyfriend laughed again. "He's awesome so of course he wouldn't!"

England and I were on the edge of our metaphorical seats. While Ari could care less, we both wanted to hear her sing. When the cute German girl saw me (Seychelles) watching, a weak smile appeared and she took a deep breath.

From her small beautiful mouth, a gorgeous song appeared.

"_Across the velvet sea,_

_Against the setting sun,_

_A soul hides locked away-_

_Captor on the run._

_So sad- it yearns to become_

_An eagle in the sky_

_And high up it will go_

_Far 'way it will fly._

_To the place that is my home_

_To the normal faces,_

_To the Arms of my love:_

_The one bright place safest._

_Run, run across the ocean_

_With blessings of the wind._

_To the ends of the earth,_

_There will lie my kin._

_Fly, fly- escape from this place_

_Till the end of all time._

_And I shalln't forget her: _

_The one love of mine._

_Run from my captivity,_

_From that soulless captain._

_To the land of my free_

_There will lie my kin."_

I was so enthralled by it that I barely noticed Italy softly strumming his guitar in the background. What tortured, but genius mind wrote that? When she finished, Liechtenstein gave a small bow and ran away before anyone could give any applause. They all still clapped anyways, vainly hoping that she would hear it.

I saw everything I needed to see. I lightly tugged on England's sleeve, telling him that I was feeling dizzy again. Jumping back into parent mode, he started fretting over me and carried me to Nurse Pangaea. I saw Ari wave goodbye before jumping on Italy to not be discouraged.

The walk seemed so very short. In a blink of an eye, the Brit was opening the nurse's office doors and telling her that I was feeling sick. Nurse Pangaea adjusted her green smock and rolled her eyes. "My dear, she's probably just on her period," she announced, loud enough for the whole office to hear. "I'll just give her a heating pad and you can be on her way."

Being the prissy student council president he was, England left willingly, kissing my forehead and telling me to get better soon. His cheeks were red for two reasons. The first being that he was a tsundere and that's what tsunderes do. The second was that every member of the male species did that whenever the menstrual cycle was mentioned.

Nurse Pangaea wasted no time in shoving me to the bathroom with a box of pads. Left alone in there, I was able to check my underwear to see that I my vagina was- in fact -not struck with a case of tuberculosis. Still, I stuck the pad on just to make her happy. Once out, the fat lady forced me to lay on one of the beds with a heating pad over my abdomen.

By the way, I apologize to any male readers for that last paragraph. For the reason why, see two paragraphs ago.

To put it simply, I was bored out of my mind just laying there. Even though I've gone through this every month since hitting puberty in sixth grade, I still have no idea how to react. Yeah, the internet says that we were moody, but I'm _always _like that. "This is boring!" I complained, knowing quite well that no one cared. Nurse Pangaea had her nose in a _Mr. Universe _issue and could care less about the ailing.

"Why don't . . . you sleep?" That voice sounded a lot like Vic Mignogna (try saying that three times fast). For the first time, I noticed that Greece was laying in the bed to my left. The tanned man looked extremely tired as he lightly petted a cat curled on his stomach. Were they even allowed to have pets on campus, nonetheless, the infirmary? "It's a good way . . . to pass the time . . ."

"I'm not tired," I returned, staring at him, I noticed the multiple bruises on his face and arms. "What happened to you?" I asked, suddenly very concerned. The only logical explanation I had was that Sadiq got really pissed off and used his long time enemy as a punching bag.

Because it would take too many " . . . " and wasted space to write what he told me, I'll just give a really brief abridged version. But without the card games jokes because that's a different kind of abridging. Totally.

So apparently, Greece was in the middle of his gym class, feeling as sleepy as always. As per tradition, Physical Education Teacher Pangaea had a late student draw a little slip of paper from a bowl and everyone played that activity. It happened to be running. The Greek nation, however, could not stay awake for that long. As he was jogging, he fell into a sleep, collapsed, and was promptly trampled by of students.

So that was what happened. The whole story took around twenty minutes to be told. By the end, I was feeling sleepy myself. Because, as we all know, some fake Swiss studies have shown that sleeping Greeks are contagious. However, before I could talk to him any longer, I finally got a visitor.

"What the hell are you doing here, jackass?" Sadiq demanded, slamming the infirmary doors open. I could not help but to facepalm. Even after knowing this guy for, like, forever, I was still surprised when he did things like these. Especially in character things.

Greece frowned, still petting his cat. "I could . . . ask you . . . the same," he deadpanned nonchalantly.

The Turk marched right up to him and roughly grabbed his collar. "Yeah well you're probably in here because you're a total wimp and wimpiness is incurable!" He accused, completely forgetting about me. I banged my face into the bed (facebed?).

Not that I was jealous or anything (Pfft, me? Jealous?), but I really had to stop him before Greece had his face caved in. "Turkey, would you please calm down?" I asked gently, slightly afraid of his angered look. "I don't think Leonardo diCaprio would like it if you commit first degree manslaughter."

Both of the men looked at me. I knew I made a mistake when Sadiq's already red face grew into dark rouge. "Whoa . . . you told her about . . . _Titanic?" _Greece asked, raising an eyebrow. " . . . Since when were . . . you straight?"

"I'll be straight when you start drinking five hour energy drinks, jackass," Sadiq snapped, dropping him. I knew I was in big trouble when he could put aside his rivalry with Greece to deal with me. Lifting me by the scruff of my neck, he carried me out of the bed and held me three and a half feet off the ground. "I'm going to be taking Seychelles now, Nurse Pangaea!" He called out, already making his way to the door.

The lady just waved him off, too engrossed in her steroid pumped Arnold Schwarzenegger. "Alright, dear."

"What the hell were you thinking, Sherry?" Sadiq demanded once we were safe in the hallways. He still had yet to drop me. I was afraid he was going to hang me out another window. Yes, I still have not gotten over that yet. "Do you realize that you just did?"

"Um, how about save Greece from your irrational sexual tensions?"

He smacked me. "How about greatly embarrassed me," he said, glaring down at me. "Did it not occurred to your stupid head that I told you a very _personal _secret?"

That was when the guilt bomb dropped. Even without Mother Nature being a bitch, I felt sick in the stomach. What I told him would be equivalent to everyone in my whole school knowing that I drew pornographic yaoi. I could be in love with it all I want, but it was something I just did not want other people to know. Much softer, I looked down at my dangling feet. "I'm sorry."

I would like to pretend that he did not hear me and that was the reason why he continued ranting. "First Poland wouldn't leave me alone, then France had to suggest _that, _and now-"

Wait, what? "What did France suggest?" I asked.

The Turk quickly spat, "It's _nothing _Sherry. When you and England were gone, he asked me how the hypnotism was affecting me and then he turned into a total pervert."

"Like how?"

He promptly dropped me and I hit the hardwood floor was a painful _thud! _"It's none of your damn business!" He shouted, stress creasing the wrinkles around his eyes. As I rubbed my aching buttocks, the Mediterranean country sighed and rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I get like this every time Greece is nearby."

For once, I decided to be the bigger person. "No, it's my fault," I admitted. "I shouldn't have mentioned the _Titanic."_

Sadiq looked down at me. He looked so grand with the orange glow of the steadily setting sun shining off his eyes. I gaped at him in awe. Since when did this jerk look so . . . handsome? He even did that comforting hand offering thingy that you only see in lovey-dovey animes. "Well, putting that aside, you did very well today," he congratulated, lifting me back to my feet. "The whole 'feeling weak' thing was genius."

My face turned red when I noticed his happy smile. Yeah, Seychelles did that, not me. "Well, it was necessary," I muttered, trying not to be an attention whore. "But it didn't get us anywhere."

"What do you mean by that?"

I sighed, "England said, and I quote, that he 'loved me like a daughter.'" We were silent for a long moment. We were both disappointed in the results, but neither one of us were going to vocalize it. It would only ruin our earlier victory.

"I think the both of us deserve a quick drink at the bar," Sadiq randomly decided, wrapping a sure arm around my shoulder. The forced smile only proved how hard he was trying to make this a 'happy' situation. When I thought about it, that was rather odd for him. Normally, he would curse at me to try harder.

"_I think France's talk with him did something to his head,"_ I thought grimly, allowing myself to be dragged to the place of alcohol.

I suddenly noticed that he was glaring down at me. "That is, if you promise not to get drunk again."

The very thought of my previous intoxication made a shudder run up my spine. "I think I'll pass on it," I said just as the bar's door came into view.

Down the dark steps we went, breaking into the dim glow of the warm place. Like usual, countries socialized as if there was no tomorrow: drinking and playing pool. Sitting at the bar was Ari, cradling a cold glass of beer between his hands. Italy was at his side, sadly bent over a tall glass of wine. My love waved to us, calling out our names.

Smiling, I skipped over to him, taking the free stool next to him. "Iceland, how did Prussia react to the Italy's singing?" I asked immediately, trying to ignore Sadiq's heavy air as he sat next to me. It was uncomfortable- I was sitting between two really hot men. Awkward. "England and I left before we could see it all."

I frowned when he laughed nervously. "That's why Italy is, well, drinking," he explained, patting said man's back. The pitiful one moaned. "Prussia ran after his girlfriend and left him in the dust."

"How can he not like Frank Sinatra?" The Italian wailed, banging his head on the counter. "He is the symbol of a romantic Italian!"

Sadiq gave the bartender a quick order before giving him a raised eyebrow. "Wait. You sang Frank Sinatra songs?" he demanded. When he received a weak nod in response, he swore. "How did that not work? Everyone loves him!"

I rolled my eyes and ordered a drink of water. "Actually, I've never heard of him," I deadpanned. The three countries looked at me as if I was an alien from mars. Once the initial shock passed over, they started muttering to each other about the musical state of Seychelles. "Don't just talk about me as if I'm not here!" I exclaimed, feeling as though I was living in an actual Hetalia moment. Like seriously, I could see something like this happening in the actual anime.

Luckily for me, someone came around and changed the conversation.

Sadly, it was the object of my mentor's hate.

"Like, Turkey-pooh!" Sadiq's eyes went wide as Poland flocked over to us, looking ecstatic and strangely oblivious. His tanned hands gripped his glass tightly, making the object crack. By the time the blond was standing directly behind him, he was trembling in anger.

A drop of fear slicked through me. Sadiq has no memories of ever dating this guy. _"What the hell is he going to do?" _I wondered, fearing and expecting the worst.

"Where have you, like, been, Turkey?" the Pole asked loudly, waving his hand around in emphasis. "You've totally been avoiding me all day and I thought that you were, like, involved in something sketchy and-" He made the mistake of placing his hand on his ex-lover's back.

"Get the hell away from me!" Sadiq blindly slapped the limb away as he stood. Poor Poland jumped away, a horrified look on his face. Anyone with an ear to listen was focusing their attention on the scene before them with a terrified curiosity. Even Ari's eyes were wide in trepidation. "Never touch me again, jackass," he yelled, unaware of the people around him. "If you do, I'll-"

Suddenly, he gasped and started swaying. A new kind of fear ran through me. I grabbed his hand in a vain attempt to steady him, asking, "Hey, is something wrong?"

"It's nothing," he breathed, placing his free hand on his head. We both barely noticed Bartender Pangaea as she asked him if he needed Nurse Pangaea. "It's just a-ah!" His hand wrangled free from mine and grasped the edge of the counter. He was breathing with difficulty and his eyes were dropping.

At this point, I was too scared to do anything. I watched dumbly as Ari placed a hand on his shoulder, telling the Turk to come with him to the infirmary. Sadiq only shook his precipitating head. "No, its fine, I-" He coughed and gripped the counter tighter. "I have to go. Don't fucking follow me!"

He jumped away from the counter and ran out the bar, slamming the door behind him. Every single person in the bar jumped and stared at the place he used to be. Every single one of us was wondering what had just happened? I rose, making to chase after him when Ari grabbed my hand. "I wouldn't do that, Seychelles," he told me.

I gave him a look. "Why not?"

"If Pops wanted our help, he would have told us," he explained, easing me back onto my stool. "It's best if we left him alone for now." The moment my butt made contact, Switzerland declared that he would deal with 'the trouble maker' and went after him. That was not going to end well.

"What if he's having a seizure or tripping out on LSDs?" I demanded. "We should be there in case something bad is actually happening."

"No, it's, like, completely fine." I paused and stared at Poland. He was standing stock still, a forced smile twitching under his silent tears. "Turkey can, like, take care of himself," he whispered, sounding a bit more than a little unstable. "He would totes never do something to like purposely hurt anyone, I . . ."

Contrite feelings strangled me, causing me to look down at the floor. Yes, Sadiq was hypnotized in order to protect Poland from his mistake. But even knowing that, I felt the sheer weight of that price. I barely noticed Estonia and Lithuania when they came to the Pole's aid.

The brunette placed a gentle arm around him, easing him away to a private corner to talk and comfort. The moment the Baltic started talking; Poland broke and strongly hugged his old friend, sobbing into his shoulder.

My own lip trembled in sorrow at the sight. "It's not crack if they truly love each other," I muttered, clearly remembering Ari of the previous cycles telling me that. I rubbed my hands over my face, barely feeling the Icelandic boy place a hand on my back. His other one was on Italy, who was wailing from the fright of his friend suddenly turning scary.

"Um, Seychelles?" I looked up at Estonia. The bland blond looked as awkward as always, eyes darting around habitually. Taking my dead silence as a right of way, he said, "I saw Belarus dragging Liechtenstein to the hallway earlier . . ."

Shit, really?

I jumped up and bid Ari a hasty goodbye. Hearing that the most notorious straightie hater was with my weak best friend was more than enough information. Ignoring my nagging need to check up on Sadiq, I ran up the bar stairs and into the hallways.

Reaching the ground floor, I saw the windows outside showed the dying sunset was at an end. The fluorescent lights above me flickered and hummed as I scanned around for the girls. Amazingly, they were only a few feet away. They stood at the window, respectfully looking out with equal nostalgia. Their voices were hushed, but not hostile.

"_Belarus isn't hurting her,"_ I realized, noticing that there was a significant lack of blood. "_So what are they doing?" _ Not feeling a single ounce of guilt, I started listening to the blond's conversation.

" . . . I just thought that we agreed to never mention _that time," _Belarus growled, glaring at the peaceful world before her.

Liechtenstein looked down with guilt, muttering softly, "I'm sorry. Prussia told me to sing it. I didn't realize that you were in the audience."

She turned to her and pressed her lips together. "I just don't get you, straightie," the scary one said. "One moment you were flirting with me-" What? "-and the next you're hooking up with Prussia." The German only repeated her apology. "I don't want you to be sorry, I just want to know the truth to what happened back then!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you," the girl repeated. "I promised him-"

Belarus suddenly grabbed her shirt and held her a foot of the ground. "It's been over a century," she snarled, ignoring the girl's cries of pain. "It's about time I-"

At that point, I had just enough. "Hey! Let her go!" Not knowing what I was doing, I sprinted to her and shoved the attacker away. The smaller girl landed right next to me, sniffling as she rubbed her sore neck. I growled, "What the hell are you doing?"

"This has nothing to do with you," the platinum blond snarled, pulling a knife from the strap under her stockings.

I flinched and protectively pulled my friend behind me. "She's my friend," I said. My voice reminded me of Sadiq: quiet, but deadly. "And she said she was sorry so just piss off." For a moment, I expected her to just stab me and end the cycle.

Belarus didn't. Instead, she frowned and put her knife away. "Neither of you are worth my time," she said before whipping her beautiful hair back and strutting again to the bar. When the door closed firmly behind her, I sighed and relaxed. I just barely got out of that one. Then again, I hadn't walked in on her and her girlfriend making love, so she really had no reason to murder me.

"Why did you do that?" Liechtenstein asked, her blue eyes looking at me with unfathomable concern. "Belarus might have hurt you."

I flashed a confident smile. "Isn't that what friends do? Save each other from psychos?" The girl giggled with sad warmth. I pressed my lips together and looked down. "But what was that about?" I asked. "Why was she . . ." I trailed off when I noticed her thick frown. I quickly added, "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that."

She shook her head. "No, it's fine. You're my friend and you deserve to know what I can tell you." She leaned against the window, and looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes shown with distant memories I could only pray to understand. "A long time ago, circumstances made it so that Belarus and . . . she and _I _had crushes on each other. But those same circumstances made it impossible to go further and we fell apart bitterly."

"You used to be a lesbian?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She only shook her head. "I wasn't, but that guy was." I had so many questions, like who was 'that guy' and what were the circumstances my cute little Liech was forced into? But the girl started humming and continued affectionately talking. "You know Seychelles, with the strange things you've been doing lately-" Like my excessive drinking, spending time with Turkey and Iceland, standing up to Belarus? "-I sometimes think that it might be happening again."

My confusion was far from over. "What's happening again?"

I was ignored as the girl looked at me, red with embarrassment. There was a brief silence as she struggled to throw her courage to the sticking place. "Can I tell you a secret, Seychelles?" she asked, looking down at her black Mary Janes.

I nodded. "Anything."

"After what happened today, I just can't keep it up with Prussia anymore," she confessed, looking depressed to admit it. "He's just so outgoing and I'm . . . not."

Frowning, I gently embraced her, squeezing her tightly to my chest. "It's alright to break up with him," I told her. "It's the fair thing to do."

"I did." My jaw unhinged itself and fell to the floor. Who here was expecting that because I sure wasn't. Liechtenstein pulled herself away and looked me straight in the eye, saying, "I've also been having a crush on someone else for a very long time."

This was getting delicious. Very similar sounding to Italy's situation, but delicious and nutritious nonetheless. "Who?"

She hesitated. Closing her eyes, she forced the name from her lips. "England."

I really should have stopped to think about the impact that was going to have on my mission. I mean, the Brit was the only known bisexual in the school; she had the chance I also needed. But I was so wrapped up in being a good friend that I grinned like America and promised that I would help her in her quest for love.

It wasn't until we were walking back to the underground establishment did I want to smack my forehead and call myself an idiot.

* * *

**Cycle 11: The Room**

The moment Turkey opened his eyes, he found his glossy reflection staring straight at him. He was in the glossy white room again, sitting in his usual chair. The memories of the near disaster beforehand flooded to his mind. Poland, the bar, running . . .

"You chose a fine time to call me here," Turkey snarled, folding his arms over his chest. Already he was feeling stiff in his pure clothes and the chair felt stone hard. "I was in a bar, surrounded by people! Did you want someone to grow suspicious of me?" he demanded. "To find out what's going on?"

The Voice, for once, replied immediately. That would have been a small victory if it had not been a mere cruel laugh. "I am merely just very curious to what you're trying to do," it said, obviously knowing something that he didn't.

That fact made Turkey uneasy. He squirmed in his chair, gulping. "What do you mean by that?"

It laughed again. "Hypnotism?" It mocked. "My, my, you must be desperate, Sadiq."

He glared upward, growling darkly, "Don't call me that, jackass. Not after what you did."

Unsurprisingly, the Voice ignored his request. The low rumble continued as if he never said anything. The merry tone it had suggested that it was rejoicing over something, but the nation could not figure out what. "What I did?" it repeated. "Sadiq, I'm very curious to what _you_ did."

Turkey snapped, "And what did I do?"

"Of course you have forgotten." The reflection of the Voice's dark figure appeared in the glossed wall in front of him. Turkey sighed and obliged the rule of not turning to look at it. He learned his lesson last time- the watch felt heavier and colder than ever.

The Voice circled him like a vulture to its dying prey. Turkey was even sure that it was madly smirking when it said, "It is, after all, a side effect of France's crude hypnosis skills. Though I do have to admit, it is a _very _well thought out plan."

Sensing the worse, the nation tensely clenched his fists, gathering his starch pants in his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about, jackass."

The Voice smirked. "Then let me help you." Its strong hand shot out and its fingers rested on his forehead. Turkey had a moment to wonder what was happening before a sharp pain pierced his head.

He gasped, full of sudden fear for what it was going to do. The pain and anxiety made the seconds feel like slow years. "_Stop it," _the man silently begged, wincing in his suffering. "_Just stop it."_

Then the millions of memories and feelings flooded back to him.

Poland was standing before him, smiling contently. His green eyes sparkled whenever the slightest trace of light bounced off of it. Turkey could feel his skin under his and a warm feeling in his chest at the sound of his voice. He drifted away in the memories, smelling the blonde's hair, accepting the small pink tokens of affections, feeling secure as he lay next to him in bed . . .

For a short instant, euphoria over came the worry. It was his precious Poland and with him, Turkey had no need to fear- to regret the past.

But the fear had to return.

The Voice's subtle warning was echoing in his head, bringing to mind every possible tragedy it had to offer. Poland, dead by suffocation, bullet wounds, and poison . . . Poland, dead by Turkey's hands . . . Poland, forever changed like that one person . . .

It wrenched his heart, entertaining his mind with tragedy, after tragedy, after tragedy. Grinding his teeth together, Turkey felt a single tear fall down his hard cheek. "Stop it," he muttered, feeling every ounce of hope leave him. His love was going to die because of him. "Fucking stop it."

The Voice retracted his hand and the feelings stop. Every fond memory of the Pole was gone and love was replaced with hate. Gasping, the man leaned back into his chair and concentrated on breathing. How could he love Poland? The man was annoying, the worst human being every known to mankind. The very thought had Turkey growling.

The Voice smirked, wrapping its cold arms around its victim's tensed shoulders. "As you can see, I can reverse whatever changes you make to your mind," it said, pressing its frigid cheek against his stubble one.

A shudder ran through down his spine. "Then why did you redo it?" Turkey hissed, trying to keep his voice even and smooth. But the close proximity had his wrecked senses on high alert.

It ran its cold hands down his chest, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. Its victim hissed, trying to keep himself calm. Cooing playfully, "Because I do find it very convenient for you to hate him, Sadiq."

Turkey, though uncomfortable, was too afraid to fight the devil away. Why was it so close? "_It's just a way to mess with me," _he told himself. "_Just ignore it, Turkey. Just ignore it." _

Swallowing, the man continued to look forward as he asked, "Why is that?"

"Because now I have no reason not to do this." Turkey was confused until he felt the cold sensation of the Voice's lips against his own.

* * *

**SEK: ***troll face*

**BFTL: ***troll face*

**SEK: **Wolfie is enjoying herself right now. Remember to drop in a precious review!

**FunFacts**

"Frank Sinatra." This guy was a very popular singer among the Italian community of old (the very gorgeous Michael Buble covered a lot of his songs). I don't know a single Italian who doesn't know this guy (and I'm Italian). Also, Bucca Bi Beppo has a shrine to him, so look for it the next time you eat there.

"Across the velvet sea" I own that poem! Do not steal!

"Even after knowing this guy for, like, forever, I was still surprised…" It occurred to be recently that I have never written a scene where Sadiq and Greece argued with each other. And considering the fact that it's a big part of Sadiq's character…

**Next Chapter: **As Sadiq faces the consequences of his encounter, Sherry and Ari work to giving TWO people love lives. But what happens when France and England butt in?

****Review With Your Reactions! They Are Always Funny!****


	10. Descent into Mary Sueism Part 2

**MW: **Hello peeps, chapter ten is here and I am finally back! Due to the fact that Blue and SEK are worn out, I used some of our review money (110? FU-) to send them to Greenland. I hope they like the polar bears. But onwards with the AN.

This chapter is late due to the fact that school started and I have less time to write. Plus this chapter was just hard to write. Just knowing what happens in the next chapter makes this one feel boring. . .

And now for a spotlight. Any of you guys read "HETA"? Well if you have, you guys probably weren't satisfied with the ending. Well one fan by the name of **Chikipye **decided to write a sequel entitled "HETA Unleashed". Unlike me, she updates daily so go check it out! It's in my favorites!

And remember to continue to make me rich!

**Chapter Summary: **The prom rolls along and Ari, Seychelles, and Sadiq stumble upon a few twists.

**Warnings: **Just go look at what's been in the previous chapters, but add offensive Mormon jokes.

**Disclaimer: **I have yet to gain ownership of this anime. If I did, I would write a book.

* * *

**~Chapter 10~**

**Descent into Mary-Sueism Part 2 **

"_Sometimes no matter how many eyelashes or dandelion seeds you blow, no matter how much of your heart you tear out and slap on your sleeve, it just ain't gonna happen."_

― _**Melissa Jensen, American Author**_

* * *

**Cycle 11: Wednesday**

"Iceland, I need your help." The cool nation gave me a blank look, still walking towards the cafeteria. It was lunchtime and I was in a panic. My clothes were wrinkled and my hair was messy- the obvious sign that I pulled an all nighter last night. Add the fact that I was also up late the night before that and I was freaking tired. My exhaustion was at the point where Starbucks coffee wouldn't be able to help me.

The silvered hair man sighed, hugging his puffin tighter. "What did you do?" he asked in a no-nonsense matter. "Accidentally dump Germany?"

I winced, thinking back to the cycle where I actually did that. And to think that it was the cause for him loving me. "No, Germany is hanging out with Taiwan right now," I reported, raising my chin high in the air. "And he's rather enjoying it." I quickly pulled out Seychelles's phone and showed him a picture the German had sent me. "See? They're studying together."

Ari shook his head. "You seem rather okay with Taiwan stealing your boyfriend," he remarked dryly. "But why do you need my help?"

Sheepishly, I scratched the back of my head. "Well you see here, I kind of agreed to help Liechtenstein hook up with England-"

"You what?" The man's mask fell and he was staring at me with complete shock. At first I thought he was mad at me. Wouldn't that be just dandy: Ari hating my guts when I still like him? But his mouth stretched into a wide grin. "Seychelles, you are a genius!"

I knitted my eyebrows. "I am?"

"Yes, you are!" Running a hand over his head, he explained, "In order for Liechtenstein to go after England, she would have to break up with Prussia, right? So now Prussia is single." I think this moment deserves a big round of applause. I did something smart without even knowing it! Oh man, am I awesome or what? I totally deserve one free internet. "But that still leaves the problem of turning him gay."

I rolled my eyes and huffed, "Bitch please, we'll just give him the Mormon treatment."

Ari gave me a blank stare. "The Mormon treatment?"

"Yeah, all we have to do is give him a special piece of advice and we'll be good."

At last, we finally entered the cafeteria. With Prussia and Liechtenstein broken up, the whole social order of it was out of hand. Where the straighties used to sit was occupied with Prussia and Poland- two people whose lovers broke up with them. Germany and Taiwan sat next to each other with some of the other Asian countries. But what really stuck out was the fact that France, England, Liechtenstein, Switzerland, and Italy were all seated at one table in the corner.

A small smile graced my face when I noted the girl's shy attempts of talking with the Brit. Every time her face grew red and her tongue failed her, England would smile gently and nudge her back into gear like a true gentleman.

The Icelandic boy and I got into line for our food, giving me the perfect time to tell him about the Book of Mormon (the Broadway show from the guys that made South Park. Not the actual book). "Well it's quite simple. When you're Mormon your feelings are like a light switch. You simply 'turn off' whatever you don't want to feel."

Ari rightfully rolled his eyes. "Seychelles, I highly doubt that will work."

"Yes it will. Here." He sighed as I motioned for him to watch. Using my body's slim hands, I gracefully played out the lyrics as I quoted them. "Imagine that your head is made of tiny boxes. Find the box that's gay and _crush it!"_

He jumped. "The hell, that's messed up."

I nodded, taking a tray of food for myself. "That's what makes it funny," I told him, smiling expectantly. He only rolled his eyes. We quickly got away from them and started looking for a place to sit. "Let's sit over there," I suggested, pointing to the sacred table of 'FrUk', Italy, Liechtenstein, and Switzerland.

Ari shrugged. "That's fine," he said. "It's just . . ." He trailed off, making one last scan of the room with his violet eyes. "Where is Pops?"

My heart dropped, once again reminded of the fact. I would like to claim that I put in some legitimate effort to search for him, but that would be a lie. After hanging out with Liech at the bar, I heeded Ari's advice and headed back to my dorm and did my homework. Then, for the first time in what felt like forever, I went onto DeviantArt. Shocking, right? I basically went on there to find some reader inserts. Why? I needed an explanation on how heterosexual pairings worked. It's just when you get so wrapped up in yaoi, you kind of forget some things. "I haven't seen him since yesterday," I said softly, remembering how I had to resort to Harry Potter ones (why mustn't Hetalia exist in the Hetalia universe?). "Do you think he's dead?"

"Pops is too stubborn to die," he told me smoothly, the table at hand. "It's more likely that he's just skipping class again."

"Who's skipping class again?" Switzerland asked, suddenly interested in my existence. No one seemed to mind the fact that his gun was right on the table. I gave him a shaky smile before sitting between his sister and England.

The Icelandic took the seat across from me, explaining to him our little Turkish problem. "Oh yeah, that asshole." The blond placed his fork on his plate and pressed his lips together. "When I found him yesterday, he was dead asleep on the floor. Bastard was mumbling something about Poland when he finally woke up." His distasteful visage strengthened when he said, "The jerk immediately shoved me away and ran off somewhere. I've been looking for him since, but with no luck."

The news put my conscience in the gutter. I really should have followed him yesterday, just to make sure he was going to be alright. "Why are you still looking for him?" France asked, swirling the wine in his hand. Where did he get that? They only serve alcohol in the bar.

"Because it's my responsibility," The Swiss growled. "Someone just can't make a scene like that without some kind of problem behind it."

The jackass flickered into the corner of my mind. I laughed nervously. "Yeah, problem. . ."

Italy took his face away from his pasta long enough to perk up significantly. "Seychelles! Iceland! What about my problems?" He asked, brown eyes gleaming with expectancy.

"I highly doubt they have pasta rehabs," England muttered dryly, calling a giggle from everyone but Switzerland and Ari.

The Icelandic nation looked between him, Liechtenstein, and her ex-boyfriend. "Right now really isn't the time to make a move," he stated, hinting for the oblivious one to shut up. "He really isn't going to be in the mood to date someone."

Italy pouted, whining, "But I wanted to go to the prom with Prussia!"

It was one of those 'oh shit' moments that require an ESPN style freeze, break down, and replay.

The moment the Italian uttered the words, Liechtenstein gave him a shocked look before covering her mouth with her hands. Ari promptly banged his head into his tray of food, knocking over his carton of milk. This caused Switzerland to curse and lift his gun high off the table. You know, to prevent damages. His elbow knocked right into England's face. The Brit, who had been rolling his eyes at the suggestive comment from his boyfriend, fell right into said man. France in turn knocked me out of my seat. Searching for something to grasp, I grabbed Ari's arm and ended up pulling him down with me.

In the end, it appeared as though the whole table was shocked at the fact that Ari and I were on the ground, lying on top of each other. His face was barely inches from mine. Blushing deeply, I tried not to think about the close proximity of his lips. I could just kiss them . . .

He blushed and jumped away. "I am so sorry Seychelles," he said quickly, ignoring the strange looks from the lunch room. "I, uh . . ." His eyes met with Germany, who was glaring at him. "I got to go." Ari grabbed his puffin and dashed out quicker than an Avengers fangirl to Chris Evans. Man, that guy had a nice ass.

Know what? I think I'm going to dedicate this part of my life to it.

**This incident with Ari is dedicated to Chris Evans' (AKA: Captain Freaking America's) ass. That sexy booty that will be admired for generations to come. **

Germany excused himself from Taiwan and started to go after him. "Don't get your panties in a bunch; It was an accident," Switzerland nonchalantly called. "Now sit down." It was after a grumble did the robust man did so, still glaring at the way Ari went.

France gave an impressed whistle. Massaging his lover's back, he said, "Thank you Switzerland. I highly doubt Iceland would have liked dealing with Germany."

"No, he wouldn't mind," I grumbled, picking myself off the ground. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate Switzerland saving ice, but it would have been nice for someone to have helped _me._ "After all, he did do it last-"

"Seychelles, what are you going on about?" England asked, pressing a napkin to his nose. It wasn't because he was bleeding, more like it was him being overly dramatic.

Again, I laughed nervously. "Nothing!"

The table of my so-called friends gave me weird looks, as if they weren't sure of what to think. Slowly, as the cafeteria slowly resumed their normal conversations, my table eased back into their meals. I was stabbing my fish with my spork- actually, why the hell does a private school for _freaking personified countries _have sporks? Are they too cheap for normal forks and spoons? The hell, let's just hope I never have to eat soup at this place.

Or they decide to invent the sporkife- A spork, but with the edges serrated like a knife.

A certain scowl brought me out of my irrational anger. "That reminds me . . ." Switzerland placed his gun back at the table, green eyes piercing. "Principle Pangaea wanted me to tell you that you've been banned from the school prom."

I dropped my spork. "What? Why?"

"Due to the fact that you skipped all your classes Monday and your current record of ly-"

Papa France swooped in like a miraculous angel, wrapping an arm around the cheese maker's shoulders. "Aw Switzerland, lighten up," he cooed, giving me a sure wink. "It was just one day. Surely you can make an exception."

He sighed testily, giving him an irritated look. "France, this is my job," he said. "Principle Pangaea made it my responsibility to take care of the trouble students."

My 'Papa' pointed his face towards me. "Do you think that my Seychelles is troubled?" he asked innocently.

The blond pressed his lips together, trying to figure out a way to truthfully answer that without offending the school's vice president. Liechtenstein, however, came to my rescue like Spider Man to Mary Jane. "Just this once?" She pleaded, giving him that shining look in her beautiful eyes.

Girls, if you have brothers, you know what it's like to manipulate them. Heck, both of mine are younger and annoying, but they still care about me enough to punch out the face of whatever boyfriend I might never have. It was part of some instinctive reaction ever male sibling has. With this in mind, it came no surprise when Switzerland defeatedly sighed. "Alright, just this once. But-" In a flash, he was back to glaring with his gun pointed between my eyes. "If you even _think _about doing that again . . ."

I raised my hands in the air, saying, "I swear to God, I'll be the greatest student you've ever seen." I only relaxed when he curtly nodded in acceptance.

England pursed his lips, giving a criticizing glaze at the fire air. "Switzerland, is it really necessary to point that thing everywhere?" he demanded as said man lowered it. "I think it does more harm than good."

The Swiss man frowned. "It's the only way to get anything done at this stupid place."

France surely squeezed his arm, saying, "Well maybe if we practice more love this violence wouldn't be necessary."

I shook my head, smiling softly. There was no way they were going to get him to give up his precious firearms. His stereotype for it is just too great. A small nudge brought my attention back to Liechtenstein. A shy smile was on her face when she said, "Seychelles, what am I supposed to do about England? He's so in love with France and-"

"Let me handle it," I told her confidently. She nodded, letting me realize that I had no idea what I was going to do. There had to be a way to get him to take her to the prom, but how? "_Well France and England's relationship has been on the rocks for a while, so it's possible to break them up," I_ thought, tapping my spork rhythmically. _T_he problem with that it that then he'll be too upset to rightfully hook up with someone else. "_But what if I _didn't _break them up?"_

A plan formed in my mischievous little head. Resting my chin on my hand, I leaned into the table and smile. Winking at Liechtenstein, I said very loudly, "Oh Liech, you must be _so _lonely without Prussia around. If only you had a _true gentleman _to ask you to the prom."

The three arguing men stopped and looked at me. "You know Liechtenstein, I'll take you if you want," Switzerland deadpanned, causing his sister to look ready to facedesk. I think that this is the first time I've seen her like that.

Still, I stared at him. "I meant a _non-related-_true gentleman," I corrected, on the overdose of overly hinting something.

But guess what overly oblivious twat that all the pirate loving fangirls seem to love responded? "If you want, I'll take you to the prom," England offered, ignored the confused look of his boyfriend. "It is, after all, the duty of a gentleman." Well, thank you Mr. Obvious.

"What about me?" France demanded, patting his chest. "I thought we were going together."

Italy decided that his pasta could wait long enough to help support our argument. "It's just one night," he chirped happily. "It wouldn't hurt to do it just once."

France looked ready to boil over with anger. He opened his mouth and closed it again. He grimaced and cast away the red shade in his complexion. "Of course, you're perfectly right Italy, it is just _one _night," he said, trying to act nice instead of pissed off. "But it is to make the world happy and that is the basis of all love: happiness."

"Hey Switzerland." Said man turned to see Estonia tapping his shoulder politely. His laptop was tucked safely under his arm and his glasses sat on the crook of his nose. When the master of the hallways glared at him, he took it as the right away to talk. "I heard that you were looking for Turkey and I saw him in the 3rd floor bathrooms."

Immediately, I jumped to my feet. "I'll go fetch him," I said quickly, swinging my bag over my shoulder. My mentor had so much explaining to do.

My offer, however, caused a bunch of looks from the members of the table. Liechtenstein and Estonia were giving me confused looks, whereas France and England looked rather excited. Italy was smiling like an idiot and Switzerland was frowning. "That wouldn't be necessary," he said curtly, rising from his own spot. "I can perfectly handle it all by myself-"

England jumped to my rescue. "Well it was nice talking to you," he said, quick and ecstatic. "As I was saying Liechtenstein, I'll pick you up at nine . . ."

I smiled when the older brother's brows knitted when the girl blushed at the thought of her date. "On second thought Seychelles, can you do that for me?" he asked, taking his gun in hand. "I do believe that England and I need to set a few ground rules."

As the Brit paled, his boyfriend patted his back merrily. "I'll go with her," he said, grabbing his shoulder back. "Have fun, my little bunny!" He grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the cafeteria, hurrying to escape before the bloodshed. As I went, I saw Liechtenstein mouth a 'thank you' before trying to calm her threatening brother.

Well, that went better than I expected.

"I'm glad you haven't done that with me," I said, climbing the stairs with France. There was something off by the eagerness him and Brit showed to helping me, but I wasn't about to dwell on it. Ideally, it was because they showed some form of interest in me. That is, sexual interest.

Insert winky face here.

The gorgeous blond shrugged. "I know better than to stop love when it happens," he said, smiling his suggestive French smile. Wait, suggestive? Does that mean I actually seduced him? Hell yeah!

Smiling madly, I put myself in the mind set of Hooker-Sherry. If I was going to be a slut, how would I reply to him? It came to me like a recipe to Chef Emeril. "So, what are you going to do now that you aren't going to the prom with England?" I asked, copying his smile.

"Oh, I don't know." France sighed, looking up to the heavens. "I suppose that I could just go with myself." Holy crap, selfcest! I cannot begin to describe how much I love that! I once read this fic where an evil alternate universe version of England psychologically messed with normal England and IT WAS SO SEXY!

I get a fangasam just thinking about it.

That aside, I grinned and pushed the thought from my head. "How about we go together?" I asked. He gave me a surprised look, raising an eyebrow high in the air. "Just for this one night," I quickly added, silently ordering Seychelles not to screw this one up for me. "You know, since England and Liechtenstein are going." He still didn't seem convinced. "As father-daughter. We haven't really spent a lot of time together in a while. . ."

France laughed and engulfed me in a massive glomp. "Oh, you're so cute!" He squealed, rubbing his stubbly cheek against mine. "You want to spend time with your Papa- that is just so sweet! But-" He dropped me and looked me straight in the eye. "-Are you sure that there isn't someone else you want to go out with?"

I shook my head. "Don't worry, Germany is going with Taiwan."

"Is there anyone else?" He asked, an expectant hope in his tone. "Like, someone you _really _like?"

I paused. What was he implying? "_What if he realized that I love Ari?" _My heartbeat picked up. "_Crap, not good, not good! Damn the freaking country of l'amour!" _Putting on a beatific visage, I smiled. "There is no one else," I told him. He still didn't seem convinced. I guess I was going to have to play the guilt trip. "I just want to go with my Papa, is that so wrong?"

My 'Papa' at last sighed. "Fine I'll take you, dear." Fuck yes! Am I awesome or what? I might possibly be more awesome than Prussia. Actually, I _am _more awesome than he. And there isn't anything anyone can do about it.

At last, our feet touched the wood floors of the 3rd story. Gosh, that was one of the shortest, yet longest journeys of my life. Probably because I accomplish so much. Since I am, as we all know, awesome.

Alright, I'll shut-up about that now.

"Here's the one problem with Estonia's piece of information," France said, pressing his lips together with frustration. "There are two boys' bathrooms on this floor."

His mention of Sadiq brought a random question to me. "Hey Papa." He looked at me, once again with a raised eyebrow. "Remember when I was feeling dizzy and you and Turkey had a little talk?"

"Of course I do."

"What did you tell him?" I asked. "He was mad that you made a 'perverted' comment."

For once, France anxiously stumbled over his words. "I, er, well you see Seychelles, I . . ." At last, he regained his lost composer and coughed into his fist. "That is for him to tell you," he said firmly.

I sighed. You win some, you lose some. "Right. I'll check the bathrooms by the science room. You can have the ones by the Math section."

"That is fine by me." France smiled and ruffled my already messy head of hair. "I'll see both you _and _Turkey after school today, non?"

I pushed his hand away, grumbling, "Yeah, yeah; just go." I watched him go. The man didn't walk three feet before turning and blowing me a soft kiss. I rolled my eyes as he chuckled and continued down the hall.

Oh Sadiq, the sacrifices I make for you.

Adjusting my scarf (the freaking bruise was still there!), I made my way to my assigned bathrooms. The whole way there, I wondered what could be wrong with him. Was it because of the jackass? Was it a medical problem? "_I really hope he's okay," I_ thought, seeing the door come into view. I gulped and quickened my pace to a gentle jog.

I could tell that there was someone inside before I even opened the door. The sound of running water could clearly be heard from the hall. I listened to it for a moment. Please let it be him. Disregarding all split gender rules, I pushed the door open.

The first thing anyone could see inside was the three porcelain sinks. The urinals and stalls were to the left, three lining one wall and three lining the other. Sadiq leaned over the middle sink, face blocked even in the mirror. My breath caught when I heard his soft muttering among his almost obsessive hand washing.

He was darkly muttering things like 'only messing with me' and 'it didn't mean it'. I froze at the doorway, mesmerized by the scene. _"What was wrong with him?" _I wondered as he started washing his face. "_Did he finally crack?"_

Sadiq ran his hands down his face and looked in the mirror. My reflection looked back at him. He jumped and turned to face me. "Holy shit Sherry!" He cursed, practically clutching his heart. The water on his hands soaked a circle on his hoodie. "What are you doing here?" he asked, breathing heavily. I noticed the dark circles beneath his distressed honey eyes.

I bit my lip. He looked- to put it bluntly -like shit. "I was looking for you," I said, slowly taking a step inside. "Sadiq, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong Sherry," he said quickly turning back to the sink. He reapplied a squirt of soap and resumed his hand washing ritual. "Everything's completely fine." Bullshit!

"You're a worse liar than me," I deadpanned, making sure that the door was firmly closed behind me. I started to approach him when my footsteps seemed to make him flinch. "Sadiq, you can tell me anything," I told him, inching closer to him. "Just tell me what's wrong."

He shook his head, saying, "I can't. You have better things to be focusing on."

"Sadiq . . ." I placed a hand on his back. In an instant, he was facing me, roughly holding my arm away. The wild, panicky look in his eyes made me squirm. That and his face was really close to mine, like our noses were nearly touching. A little closer and he could be Eskimo kissing me.

I held my breath, waiting for him to make a move. He stared with his crazed look, slowly registering who I was and what I was trying to do. His face eroded into a softer format as he realized that I meant him no harm. Gradually, the Turk started peeling his fingers off and backing away. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times, trying to find the words to say.

After a few moments of just watching him ("_What the hell was that?")_, I put on my best, bright smile. "I got France to take me to the prom," I chirped half-heartedly, trying to get him to hope. "And he even started flirting with me."

Sadiq forced a grin on his face. It was so very obviously faked, but I did my best to seem convinced. "That's great, Sherry," he said, straightening out. "Very good. . ."

I took his hand in my own and gave it a hard squeeze. "We're getting out of here."

"Getting out . . ." He tried out the words for himself, checking to see if they were tangible. To me, it was a very real idea but to him it was only another mirage. Lowering his head, he repeated the phrase like a chant. "We're getting out. We're getting out. . ."

The air around the both of us was suffocating. I felt as though his traumatized awkwardness was stealing my breath away. I wanted to run away, escape from the morbid atmosphere. But I was afraid to leave him alone. It felt as though that his old self was going to be the key to getting out of here. I needed his normal, abusive self more than anything.

For some reason, I found myself reaching for his pocket. He took a step away from my hand, but he could not stop me from sticking my hand into his hoodie pocket. From it, I draw his metal canister. "Open up," I ordered, unscrewing the cap. He gave me a confused look when I held it up to him. "You can't taste anything in dreams," I told him, reminding him of his own words. "This is real."

The Turk took it from me and took a long drink. His eyes grew wide when the sweet apple flavor met his tongue. I was smiling as he greedily drank the whole thing, a small, real smile stretching on his face. When it was empty, he boyishly wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I'm sorry for that," he said smoothly, starting to sound like his old self. "I was having a. . . 'moment'."

I nodded, secretly wanting to shake my head. "Keep telling yourself that."

He glared at me. "Are you helping me or not?" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. His sharp voice was welcoming to the ears.

I only shrugged. "I don't know. You are kind of a jerk . . ."

"Only to the jackasses who deserve it." The school bells chimed, singling the end of our lunch period. Cockily, the man heaved his bag over his shoulder and swung an arm around mine. "So as we make our way to Science Professor Pangaea's class, you can tell me _exactly _how you got France to flirt with you."

I smiled and swaggered with him to the hall. He'll tell me when he's ready.

Or, at least I hoped so.

* * *

**Cycle 11: Thursday**

"What if he doesn't like me, Seychelles?" Liechtenstein asked, looking at me uncertainly through the mirror. It was sometime before the prom and we friends were once again getting ready in my dorm. Our gorgeous dresses were around our small frames and we were placing the finishing touches on our hair. Mine was in the curled low pigtails with the vivid red ribbons tied around. The only significant difference in my outfit from previous times was the fact that I still had my wool scarf around my neck. When Liechtenstein asked me about it, I lied and told her that it merely added a nice touch.

"_Stupid Sadiq and his anger management issues," I_ grumbled silently, placing a warm smile on my face. I had to give this girl the night of her life and I could not screw any of it up. This was going to be the last cycle and the timeline that was going to stay. I wanted to leave this place like a girl scout cookie stand at a supermarket: way better than I entered it.

"England's going to fall instantly in love with you," I told her excitedly, squeezing her small shoulders. "You're going to sing a cute little Disney song and getting married by midnight!"

She smiled, a slight roll in her eyes. "You're so weird," she muttered, rising to her feet. Once again, I had to stare at her terrible dress. Like seriously Hima-pops, what were you thinking when you designed _that? _ The blonde slowly spun on her toes, causing her skirt to fly out around her. She looked over her own shoulder and into the floor mirror, taking a quick look over. "But I do hope you're right," she said, much softer. "I really want him to like me."

I bit my lip. Countless forum and website comments flooded to my brain. Yeah people, remember all those complaints you wrote on her character calling her weak, annoying, and just a Switzerland copycat?

Assholes.

"Freaking Prussia loved you," I deadpanned. "If you got him to do that, then I say you'll be okay." She laughed brightly, nearly covering the sound of someone knocking on my door.

I smiled at her and jumped off my bed. "Coming!" Naturally, our dates were standing on the other side. France and England were both wearing snazzy dress suits, white cuffs and everything. They both looked well put together, well except for France. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, revealing his hairy chest to the world.

"Hello my beautiful daughter!" France cried, wrapping me into a large hug. He squeezed me tightly, cutting off all my air. "You look so beautiful tonight!" I wanted to push him away, but the idea of him being the key to my liberation made me grin and bear through it. I nearly didn't hear England when he greeted Liechtenstein.

"Good evening Liechtenstein," he greeted, inviting himself into my dorm. A glimmer danced in his eyes as he gently took her hand and kissed it. "Your dress looks becoming on you." My friend blushed deeply, at a loss of words.

France released me and gave his boyfriend (if they were even still together) a wink. "It would look better on the floor," he piped before breaking out into a fit of French laughter. I did not hesitate to slap him as England gave him a dark glare.

"Don't say that about a lady!" He snapped, scowling.

My 'papa' whimpered. "My little bunny, it was just a joke."

It took us a complete hour to walk out the door. They old married couple just could not stop affectionately arguing about the suitability of his comment. Then add the fact that Seychelles's father suddenly decided to do the "are you sure you want to go with me?" thing again and I was losing my patience.

It was a blessing when they finally kicked their butts into taking Liechtenstein and I to the ball room. I have mentioned many times before how this place looks like, but I will do just a quick little recap for those oblivious: marble floors, a gleaming dance floor, a hanging clock, and an overall statement of FREAKING HUGE.

I just can't get over how BIG this damn place is! Where the hell did they get the funding to even make a room this size? Maybe they could have used the money to- I don't know -educate the freaking nations on how to be straight? I can't even begin to describe how freaking helpful that would be!

Ahem. Excuse me for that, I got a little off topic here.

"Do you like the decorations?" France asked, my arm looped into the crook of his elbow. Like an actual couple. How cute. "England and I spent hours arguing over them."

I raised an eyebrow, pretending that I actually gave a fuck. "Who won? They look beautiful."

His sly smile grew wider as he said, "My dear, I obviously did. My little bunny doesn't have a single stylish bone in his body."

Said man shot us a glare. "I heard that, git," he growled, voice dripping in poison. The deadly look in his acid eyes added to the effect, making me wants to run into a dusty little corner and hide. His mood, however, did not last forever. His attention quickly returned to his date as he smiled warmly. "How about we dance, love?"

As Liechtenstein blushed and softly accepted, France frowned tightly and watched them go. His free hand was clenched in a tight fist as he suppressed every negative thought. Seeing it, I could not help but to giggle. "Papa, are you jealous?" I asked, a small taunt in my voice.

Oh 'FrUk', I still adore you with every ounce of my being.

"Jealous?" The blond repeated, raising a high eyebrow. "How can I be jealous?" he asked. "I know that England still loves me."

I mumbled, "But you might no longer love him . . ."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!"

France sighed, muttering something about his daughter getting snarkier with each passing day. "It must be from spending so much time with England," he reasoned aloud, forgetting that I could still hear him. Nevertheless, he resumed his previous sly smile. Offering me a hand, he said, "Well Seychelles, since we are here, I say we giving the dance floor a little spin."

I returned his smile and accepted his hand. "I accept thy offer, brave knight."

"Brave knight?" Once again, his eyebrow rose off his forehead as he led me to the dance floor. He placed his hand one hand on my waist and held my hand to the side. "Am I really your 'knight'?"

Our feet started moving in a synchronized spin. Our dance music sounded like a bitter-sweet Adele ballad. Admittedly not the best music to waltz to, but still pretty damn good. It felt nice to be in someone's arms for once. No extraneous problems to worry about, it could just be me and my date. Looking up at him with bright brown eyes, I replied, "Of course you're my knight, silly. You saved me from so much."

"Like how?" The mischief in his voice made chills run down my back.

I guess all those Harry Potter reader inserts were really going to come in handy after all. "Kiss me and find out." What was that? That was the sound of me making an awesomely flirtatious comment without the help of Hooker-Sherry. What now?

But out of every ethnic stereotype out there, it had to be lost on the French one. "We'll save the kissing for some other time," he told me, playfully tapping my lips with his finger. Disappointment made my expression turn sour. So close, yet so far. "But seriously Seychelles, shouldn't there be anyone else to be your knight?"

Oh no, where was he going with this? "Why do you say that?"

"Naturally, I would presume that since Germany is your boyfriend, he would be your knight," he said simply. I had to resist the urge to smack my forehead. Shit, why didn't I think of that? "Or has something happen between you two?"

Was he questioning his rights to be with me? "He's with Taiwan right now," I explained hastily, praying he didn't back off. "You have nothing to fear."

France twirled and dipped me close to the ground. That smile I've been mentioning for the past hour or so returned as he said, "It's not Germany I fear. It's someone much different." His eyes flickered to the food tables. Still dipped, I followed them to where Ari and Sadiq were. They were both trying to nudge Italy to ask Prussia (currently talking with Spain) (hey, that's slightly canon) to dance with him.

The sight of the handsome Icelandic man made my face flush. He knew. Le holy crap, France knew that I loved Ari. Were the fanfictions Gods just _trying _to piss me off? Still I did my best to remedy the situation. "He's just a friend," I told him, gripping his shirt for support. "You have nothing to worry about."

He didn't seemed convinced. "Alright . . . Seychelles, why are you wearing that scarf?"

"What?"

"That scarf." At last, France brought me back to my feet. His white hands trailed along the wool fabric delicately. He gripped the end and started unwrapping it from around my neck. He asked, "Why are you wearing it?"

Anxiety surged through me when I realized what was going on. "Don't touch that-" But that was just another mistake. I grabbed his wrist and pull his hand away, which basically caused him to take it off quicker. His blue eyes went large when he saw the vivid red, yellow, purple, black, and green marks on my brown skin. Mouth hang gapped, his stunned finger traced it gently. I hissed.

"Seychelles, what happened?" he demanded, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Who hurt you like this?"

I was not going to rat Sadiq out for it. I swore to God, I was going to stand by him for once. So instead of doing the mature thing and pushing the blame on myself ("France, I like self-inflicted pain from self-strangulation. Kiss me to make me better"), I did the only rash thing a teenager could manage. "Germany gave it to me." That's right, push it on someone else. Bonus points if they're suicidal. But at the moment, I was not concerned about his angst. I was more amazed at how easily the next lie came: "He and I were having sex and you know how he's into that BSM stuff-"

France placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, instantly silencing me. The deathly protective fatherly glint in his eyes returned as he glared around the ballroom. "You can put the scarf back on now, dear," he growled, sounding ready to commit manslaughter. Without a second thought, I did so; glancing around to make sure no one noticed my bruises. "Excuse me, but I have to go have a little . . . _talk _with Germany now."

He stormed away, ready to kill the blond I falsely accused. At that moment, I was really hoping that this would be another incident where the French surrender to their German enemies only after two weeks of fighting.

That way- at least -I wouldn't have to clean up any blood.

Making sure my scarf was on nice and tight, I retreated to the countless tables of food. The aroma was so delicious smelling, it was hard not to comprehend how wonderful it was. I was about to bring a paper cup full of berry punch to my lips when I remembered the last time. Some asshole spiked it. "_It's not as though I care," I_ thought, downing it all anyways. "_I didn't get excessively drunk for nothing." _At this rate, I was going to be an alcoholic by the time I'm eighteen.

"But what if he says no!" I glanced over to where Italy was fighting away Ari and Sadiq. They each had two hands on his arms and were trying to drag him towards the ever lonely Prussia. The cute brunette shook his head profusely, wailing, "I don't want to be denied by him! Please don't make me do it!"

"Italy, you have to," Ari grunted, sweat gathering along the edge of his brow. His face was red from the effort of trying to drag cement feet (I bet he really wishes he was stronger). "If you don't, then Prussia is never going to know how you feel!"

As his stubbornness continued, I glanced up at the clock on the wall. The thick, black hands made an acute angle, pointing to the twelve and eleven. I had an hour to get the kiss from France. The only problem with that was that he was with Germany and I had no idea where he was. Couldn't this be just a _little _bit easier? I mean, England and Liechtenstein were _right there, _swaying to the tune of Celine Dion.

Still, just looking at my Turkish mentor attempt to harshly reason with him reminded me of the fact that I sighed both of the men up for the task. If I just hadn't told Italy to jump off the bell tower . . .

"Italy. . ." I threw the empty cup aside and marched over to the man. Ari and Sadiq saw what was coming and quickly released his arms. The pasta eater had five seconds to wonder what was going on before a bitch slapped him into the food table. A loud _crash! _was heard as plates broke and the spiked punch spilled all over his fancy Italian dress suit.

"What the hell!" Sadiq gave me and shocked look. The expression on his face made me want to smile in triumph, but Denmark and America wolf whistling was enough for me to remain frowning. "Why the fuck did you do that?" He demanded, sounding ever so crossed with me.

"I'm just slapping some sense into him," I snapped evenly, totally not feeling guilty when Italy started to cry.

"Then could you have at least resisted bitch slapping him?" Ari asked. He bent onto his knees and lugged Italy's arm over his shoulder, saying, "I swear, those things kill brain cells more than anything."

Sadiq ran his hands over his face, muttering curses in his native tongue. "Seychelles, you _cannot _just go around hitting people-"

Is he really trying that argument with me? "But that's exactly what you do!"

He started to open his mouth, ready to snap an insult at me when Italy started to whimper noisily. His large, brown eyes were cast to his shoes as he sully muttered, "She didn't even look my way. All that, yet . . ."

All three of us grew dead silent and stared at him. He did not just . . .

"'She?'" Sadiq repeated, surprise and anger making the perfect martini in his voice. He looked at me, asking, "Please don't tell me he just said 'she.'"

Ari, on the other hand, was taking this like a police officer to a traumatized witness. His voice was strong, but soothing as he looked over the man he supported. "Italy, who is this she?" He asked. "What about Prus-" His free hand made immediate contact with his forehead. "Of course!" He groaned loudly, temporarily losing his sexy stocity. "By 'she' you mean- why didn't I see that before?"

Sadiq and I exchanged a look. The Icelander's genius mind was far, far ahead of us. Sighing, I said, "Sorry for being dumber than you, but what the hell is going on?"

"I was about to ask you four the exact same thing." Remember how I was going on earlier about the disappearance of France? Found him! And look he brought friends: a very cross school president and his very worried date. England had his hands at his hips as his vivid green eyes pierced through all of our worthless souls. "You guys, outside, _now," he_ ordered.

Sadiq, Ari, and I exchanged 'oh shit' glances before shuffling with Italy into the hallway. But our journey was far from over. Away from the loud noise, the Brit motioned for us to follow him further down the halls, leaving the site of merry making behind. Both Liechtenstein and France gave us the guilty wary glances as we went.

It wrenched my weak heart.

On the other side of the school, the moon seemed to shine brighter. Its silver rays drifted through the large windows and pooled at our feet. Heels clicked and echoed with each step, bringing us closer and closer to our destination. That was the student council room.

"I am very disappointed in the four of you," England said as he unlocked the wood doors. The lock gave a satisfied click and our entrance to our doom swung open. Like the gentlemen he (cough) was, England proudly held it open as we, his boyfriend, and my friend walked inside.

I just once to say this now and get it over with: I am eternally screwed.

"Sit down." England closed the door shut and turned to see our butts in the seats of the table. France, meanwhile, flicked the light switch on, taking us out of the dark and into the bright world of fluorescent lights. Liechtenstein's hair seemed to glow as she sat on the opposite side of the table, picking nervously at her nails. Her green eyes constantly stole curious glances at us delinquents.

Thick eyebrows framed the eyes of the man who glared at us for an intimidating second, making sweat gather around my neck and inch down my back. "I am very disappointed in you all," he said darkly, pacing. "We put together an event to have fun at- fun our bosses wouldn't reject to and you guys are off hurting each other?"

"It's my fault," I said, quick and pleading. "It was me who hit Italy-"

"Which is exactly why I am so disappointed?" England placed a hand on the tabletop directly across from me. His other was at work massaging his temples. Much softer, he said, "Seychelles, why would you do such a thing? This is very unlike you." You know, he sounded like my father . . .

Sadiq scooted a little out of his chair, ready to jump to my defense when another voice spoke up. "Seychelles did it because I told her to." We all gave Ari 'wft' looks as his monotone face looked without contrite feelings at the president.

He, however, was taking it with the cool class that every British secret agent was known for. "Oh really?" He straightened and meandered to France. Together, they stood a little ways off to the side, wrapping sure arms around each other's waists. "How is that, Iceland?"

"I was going to have Pops here test out a theory, but Seychelles did it for him, saying that she didn't want him to get in trouble." Eyes were back on me. All I could do was nod slightly and pray that this fabrication my love had made was going to work.

France piped, "May I ask what this theory is?"

Ari allowed himself to smirk for a split second before resuming his normal visage. "It's very simple, really," he said, almost bored sounding. "The theory is that Italy does not like Prussia as we originally were intended to believe."

"You're helping him hook up with Prussia?" Who else but Liechtenstein demanded, mouth forming a small 'o'. Her accusing eyes were on me. "Seychelles, why didn't you tell me?"

I raised my hands in defense. She had that heartbroken face that just made me want to cry. "He wasn't your boyfriend anymore so I didn't think it mattered!" I lied again.

"Quiet!" Both she and I snapped our mouths shut. The Brit glared at us for a second longer before beckoning Ari to continue.

The Icelander's sly smirk returned again as he resumed his speech. "As I was saying, in order to prove or disprove the theory, Seychelles slapped Italy. When he was hit, Italy muttered something about 'she' not noticing." He paused, giving a dramatic effect to the big finale. "Italy, you're not in love with Prussia, but with Liechtenstein."

Every single person non-Nordic at the school chorused a loud "What?" Like seriously, if I was in the ballroom, everyone who wasn't from that area suddenly shouted that before resuming their normal lives. America and Denmark could vouch it for me.

Italy's eyes were the widest yet. "I'm not in love with her!" He shouted, panic seeping into his voice. "I-I'm gay like everyone else! I-"

"You were looking at her," Ari said, not breaking his cool.

"They why would I be so keen on Prussia?"

The ever intelligent one shrugged. "You tell me. Were you in the closet? Looking for Liechtenstein's attention? Did you confuse the object of your feelings since they are always so close together?"

While England, Sadiq, and I were still trying to process this turn of events, France swooped in with the compassion needed to save the day. Placing a hand on the Italian's shoulder, he soothingly smiled. "It's alright to be straight," he said gently, big brother pulses kicking in. "If you really love someone, then it shouldn't matter what everyone else says." His blue eyes flickered to the single German speaker of this room. "Liechtenstein, how about you do big brother France a favor and dance the rest of the night with Italy? That is, if you don't mind."

She looked down, red as an . . . . apple (no, I was not about to say 'tomato'. Pfft, I have way more creativity than that). "I don't know," she muttered, shyly looking at the brunette in question. "I guess I will, but only if Italy wants to."

Italy's eyes flickered between France, Ari, and her. He looked lost and confused. I kind of felt the need to ring up Germany so that he can knock some classic World War II sense into him. Evidently, he gulped and took the chance. "That would make me very happy."

I couldn't help it. I broke into an excited fit of applause. A stupid grin was on my face as I gave them a zealous thumbs-up. I didn't even care that this was crack; these two would be absolutely perfect for each other.

Maybe I was going crazy.

Well at least my response was better than Sadiq's- he was wiping tears from his eyes. Stupid _Titanic_ loving idiot.

All in all, it seemed like a perfect happily ever after. Ari, Sadiq, the 'FrUk', and I watched as Italy and Liechtenstein walked back to the prom. They did not walk hand in hand like an actual couple- it was too early for that -but Italy was back to chirping like his canon self. It was a perfect ending for them. Now, all I had to do was end the craziness of the cycles.

Scratching the back of my head, I turned to France, smiling softly. "You did a real nice job there," I said, hoping that I was blushing like a love-sick idiot. But I couldn't feel the heat in my cheeks.

'Papa' grinned at me, wrapping his arm around his lover's slim waist. "It was nothing," he said. "Iceland did most of the work."

My love shrugged, saying, "I just reported what I saw."

"Which was absolutely genius."

I felt Sadiq nudge my arm, singling me to push it a little more. I have to get that kiss, now or never. "But still, you brought Italy out of the closet," I said, taking a step towards him. My Turkish mentor somehow managed to slyly ease England to Ari, engaging the two in a conversation about whatever. France didn't seem to notice, only concentrating on the fact that I was practically in his face as I said, "You deserve a thank you kiss." I puckered my lips.

"Now, now dear. My night of fixing relationships is not yet over." I took a step forward and straighten my lips into a frown. What? A devious smile painted the Frenchie's face as he leaned over and wrapped an around back around England. A single nodded- a silent conversation -brought a similar complexion on the other blond. "You see Seychelles, there is one more couple who needs to admit their feelings."

Sadiq and Ari appeared at my sides, watching the blonde with varying interest. Sadiq's face was straight, but his eyes shimmered with the same oncoming dread I felt. I want to hold _one _of their hands, but I didn't know which. Grab Sadiq's and he would surely kill me for it later. Grab Ari's, and he would freak out for thinking that he was straight. There was no way to win.

I opted it just stand there awkwardly with sweating palms.

England picked up where is boyfriend left off, smiling congenially as he said, "Yes. We've noticed that there are two of you here with an unspoken romance." Team Sue looked at each other, trying to figure out what they meant. Did they notice the way I talked or looked or thought about Ari? Were they going to bring out nonexistent relationship to light? "And Seychelles, I think that it's about time you two admit your feelings."

We were silent, waiting for the other to speak. Both of the boys looked nervous. Stupid males and their inability to deal with these things. Trying not to grumble, I asked, "Who am I supposed to admit my 'feelings' to?"

England and France exchanged a look, as if to say 'we raised an idiot'. The master of _l'amour _took over, winking and sparkling as he said, "To Turkey, silly."

.

.

.

I'm sorry, I think I just died there, what did he just say?

"_To Turkey, silly" _

Oh yeah, that.

Yup, I'm screwed. Like a Phillip's head.

"We noticed the way the two of you look at each other," England said, unaware of the fact that my brain was fucked and Sadiq's mouth was on the floor. Oh, and Ari was off in a corner snickering, muttering something about seeing this coming. Again, why do I love him? "It's quite obvious that there is something going on."

Sadiq and I exchanged a look. If what he was saying was true, then France and England turned our own game against us. And neither of us noticed? Well actually, the pieces were coming together in my mind and I realized that Sadiq _had _to have known. After All, what else could his 'perverted' conversation with France be about?

My mentor recovered and started massaging his temples. "Look, I understand what you two are trying to do," he growled, clenching his fist. "But I told you once, I will tell you again: I am not straight. I _like_ men, I _had_ a boyfriend, and I _want_ another one. Seychelles and I are just friends."

France waved a finger at us, playfully shaking his head. "Tsk, tsk, you're very deep in the closet," he sang, still winking. "The sooner you admit your feelings the better."

"I have no feeling to 'admit'!" The Turk yelled, face red from either anger or embarrassment. Most likely both. He turned to me, saying, "Damnit, Seychelles give me a little support here!"

My head screamed for me to say something, anything to help our case here. But everything was happening too quickly. The only thing I could manage was to have my hands over my red face and try to hide my shame from the world. This was bad, real bad.

I didn't even need to see his face to know that my mentor was pissed. "Jackass, aren't you going to help me out here?" he demanded again, probably ready to hold me out another window. And just when we were getting along too-

I felt someone push me back to the student council room. My heels slid on the floor as I snapped into full consciousness. England was gently shoving me into the room as France was holding Sadiq's arms over his head and doing the same. He even had the infamous rape face on. Anxiety surged through me like a bolt of lightning. "What are you doing?" I yelled, bracing my arms at the doorway.

England placed all of his weight into my back, making my arms strain under the stress. "You gits are going in there and talking about your feelings," he grunted, trying to make me budge. "And neither of you are coming out until you do."

The Turkish Republic struggled under his captor's surprisingly strong grasp, yelling, "Jackass! We have no feelings to talk about! Kid! Give us a hand!"

Ari, the sometimes bane of my existence, threw his hands up in the air, saying, "Don't get me involved in this, Pops. This is your problem, not mine." That little. . .

I turned back to him, stunned by this cool, nonchalant ways. "Ari!" I yelled, forgetting that he didn't go by that name. I didn't even realize that I said it until his eyebrows were knitted in confusion. Oh shit, that screwed us badly. My concentration lost, my arms gave out and I fell into the room. A second later, France threw Sadiq on top of me and slammed the door shut.

For a moment, the only thing either of us could do was moan in pain. It was not pleasant to have a fully grown Turk fall on you and neither is landing on top of a teenage Seychellois. Sadiq, however, snapped out of his daze the moment he heard the door click shut. "Damnit," he growled, scrambling to his feet. His calloused hands were around the doorknob in an instant, trying to get the damn thing to open. A second later, he was ramming his shoulder into the wood, calling out curses to the blonds who trapped us here.

Neither of them responded, the walls were thick and we were alone.

I sat up, rubbing my head. My dress was ripped and my hair was coming undone. Hell, even the smell of my shea butter lotion was disappearing! And I, like, reapply that stuff once an hour. I was officially a total mess.

"Get up, Sherry!" Sadiq ordered, pulling off his dirtied suit jacket. He threw it to the side, not caring that he was standing in only his dress shirt. He seemed a lot buffer without it on. "I need you to help me get this door down," he said, ramming his shoulder into it again. A _thud! _was created from it. "We need to get that Godforsaken kiss before midnight! How much time do we even have left?"

I glanced at the clock by the bookshelf. "Ten minutes," I said dutifully. I took a breath, my sensible side showing. "Sadiq, just give up," I said exasperatedly, pulling the ribbons from my hair. "I was wrong about France, he wasn't flirting with me. He was only trying to set us up together."

He shook his head, putting all of his weight into his shoulder. "What about England?" he demanded desperately. "Does he-"

I wanted to groan. I felt as though we had switched roles- I had the brains and he was being the naive girl in the foreign body. Remind me to be nice to him in the future. Testily, I said, "If he was in on this then he wouldn't be in love with me either." Sadiq took a few steps back, ready to ram his shoulder again. "Would you just give up?" I demanded, feeling the need and want to cry. "It's not going to work. And we still have one cycle left. We could-" Like a bull to the color red, he ran straight into the door. The moment he made contact, a loud boom echoed around the room, blending with the sound of his gasping in pain. "Sadiq!"

He grasped his injured shoulder and slid to the ground. I quickly crawled over to him, feeling a new kind of worry over take me. It was similar to the one I had when Germany was going to jump, but this one was different. It wasn't so much guilt driven, but instinct. "Are you alright?" I asked, trying to shove the feeling away. Not knowing what to do, I placed a hand on his sweat soaked forehead, checking for a temperature (What? I have no medical training!). I scolded, "I told you stop it."

Sadiq closed his eyes, panting heavily. "I had to try," he breathed. "Too much is at risk. Too much. . ."

My hand drifted down his face and cupped his rather handsome cheeks. Damnit, _all _of the Hetalia boys have handsome cheeks, so stop rolling your eyes at me. "We still have one more cycle left," I told him. "We can try again then."

"But . . . the jackass . . ." I nearly didn't believe it, even though it was happening right in front of my eyes. Tears were welling up in his eyes and trailing down his cheeks. I gaped at him, not wanting to believe it was happening.

Sadiq was _crying. _Sadiq, my rock, the one thing keeping me partially sane in this lawless world, was breaking right in front of me. He brought his arm over his face and released a single sob. "I don't know what to do," he whispered, voice hitching. "Fuck, I . . ."

The puzzle started coming together in my head. Yesterday, when he was in the bathroom . . . the muttering . . . the jackass . . .

I placed my hand in his free one, trying to mimic the comforting circles I rubbed into his palm during the hypnosis session. "Sadiq, what did the jackass do?" I demanded, trying to find out what happened. "What did he do?"

But he only shook his head, saying something not knowing what to do. I rubbed harder. "I'm scared," he confessed, still not removing his arm. "Sherry, I'm fucking scared. This is all happening, because I-"

"This is not your fault!" I yelled fiercely. "This is the jackass's or have your forgotten?"

He shook his head. "You don't know a single thing about me," he said. "You have no idea what I have done."

Deep inside, I knew he was right. Besides the fact that he loves the _Titanic, _what do I truly know about him? He was just as mysterious as Batman. Yet, I didn't think he was guilty of anything. Why? I didn't know.

Correction, I did know; I was just too afraid to admit it. The fact was that I loved Sadiq. Not as a boyfriend or a guy-I-would-like-to-fuck, but as my . . . as my father. In a way, I was starting to see him as the person I always wanted Gary Sue to be: smart, caring (in his own way), compassionate, and there. Heck, Sadiq only had to be the latter and that was all I needed. But would telling him that make any difference? "_What other choice do I have?" _

Taking a deep breath, I placed both of my hands on his free one, saying, "I don't need to because . . . Sadiq, you're my dad and I love you."

The comforting result I was aiming for was far from achieved. In fact, it outright failed. In a strange panic state, he grabbed my shoulder fiercely, shaking his tear stained head. "Don't say things like that!" he yelled, sounding absolutely terrified. "Don't you fucking say that!"

I gave him an odd look. "Why shouldn't I when it's true?" I demanded. "Sadiq, I love you-"

"No! You don't!" Sadiq's eyes were wide, looking behind me for any kind of attack. "For the love of God, Sherry, _take it back!_ You cannot love me!"

"But I do! I love you like a daughter loves her father-"

He head shaking continued. "No you don't! If it finds out that you . . ." He placed his head in his hands. "This is why it happened before," he said, tears returning. "This is why he reacted that way. This is why I had to cut off ties with Poland-" wait a second, how does he remember that? "-This is why all of this is happening, it-"

Sadiq screamed. It was short, but full of unbearable pain. I scooted a few inches back as his hands suddenly clutched his heart. Fear wrapped its cold arms around my shaking body. This was too much; I didn't even know what was going on anymore. "Sherry . . ." I looked back at him, just to see the tears gone and his teeth grinding together. "What time is it?" he asked as a small trail of blood started seeping from his mouth.

I glanced at the clock. It was less than a minute until midnight. This was the time I usually died. I jumped to my feet. That couldn't be right, I always died, not he! I ran to it. Maybe there was something wrong, maybe it was a few minutes ahead.

In a hurry, my elbow banged into the bookshelf.

I stopped and hugged the aching area. I wanted to cry too, but I knew that I shouldn't; it was nothing compared to the pain Sadiq must be feeling. The force of the knock, however, drew a new problem to the field. The thick, hardcover copy of _Twilight _fell from its alphabetized place on the shelf and smashed right into my skull.

Apparently, the force was enough to kill me since the last thing I heard was the ringing of the midnight bells.

* * *

**Cycle 11: The Void**

The black of the void was the first thing that greeted me when I came to. The second was the secure feeling of being inside my own skin. For a moment. I just allowed myself to lay on the hard, cold darkness and just drift into another oblivious sleep. But that could never last.

Sniffling met my ears soon enough.

Lazily, I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Why was I so tired? I was always wide awake when I came here. Then again, most of the time Seychelles had been there to jump on me for being an idiot.

Speaking of which, where was she?

The answer was where the source of the sniffling was. Seychelles stood a few yards away, back to me, trembling as she tried to silently cry. I looked at her, confused to what was going on. She was crying, but why?

Gingerly, I stood and approached her. "Seychelles?" I called, now only a few feet away. I placed a hand on her shoulder. "Seychelles, is something wrong?" She pretended not to notice me, only bury her face closer to her hands. From under my hand, her trepidation felt like bombs hitting the countryside. My already fraying heart broke a little more. "Is it something I did?" I asked softly, already feeling a pit in my gut.

Seychelles sniffled again, this time turning to me. In a hoarse voice, she shot me a glare and asked, "Why are you so perfect?"

"Huh?"

Her eyes seemed to blaze with some unspoken grudge as she said, "Why are you so perfect, Sherry? Everything you do, you just seem to do perfectly!"

There must have been something wrong with my ears. I was not perfect- I was the polar opposite of it. Mom was perfect, Bella was a Mary-Sue, and I was not. I fiercely shook my head. "I don't understand what you mean; I'm not perfect!"

"Yes you are!" I stared at the tears trailing down her face. Distress and hopelessness painted her tired visage. "You're just so perfect,' she yelled, stepping back from me. "You do everything right! You got Iceland, you fixed Liechtenstein's relationship, Belarus wouldn't kill you-" Her voice rose in volume. "-You even have Turkey's love."

It hit me like a stray ball at a little league baseball game. This wasn't about everything I did to everyone she knew, this was about Sadiq and me. This was . . . jealousy. Crap, Seychelles was jealous of me. The words tumbled from my lips in a soft whisper, "Seychelles . . . you don't love Germany, don't you." She stared at me, silently daring me to say it. "You're in love with Sadiq."

"You have everything, Sherry," she said, wiping the tears from her face. "You have the affections of everyone who hates me: Denmark, Switzerland, America, Iceland, and Estonia. But I always liked Turkey. He's . . ." Her voice hitched with the overwhelming emotions.

I took a step forward, a comforting hand stretched towards her. "Seychelles. . ."

She swatted it away. "And now you have _his _love. I hate you."

The words stung more than I would like to admit. I winced just hearing them. Seychelles hated me like I hated her. To be frank, I always figured her to be an 'I like everyone' kind of person. But now . . .

"You know that I don't like him that way," I said, attempting to reason. "I see him as my _father, _and chances are he sees me as a daughter-"

"That's the problem." Seychelles got right into my face, her dark finger jabbed into my chest. "He'll never look at me without thinking of _you_. He'll never love me the way I like him." Deep inside, I knew she was right. Still I opened my mouth, ready to argue it out with her when she snapped, "Just go away, Sherry. Turkey's probably waiting for you."

I watched her storm away. Her blue dress seemed to whip around her and angrily as her red ribbons bounced. "I'm sorry," I said, just as her figure started to fade until I was falling

and falling

and falling

and falling

a

n

d

. . .

. . .

* * *

**Cycle 12: Monday**

The hip voice of Lady Gaga lured me from my sleep. My hands reached out from under the covers and hit the snooze button. Keeping my eyes shut, I adjusted my position and snuggled closer to the pillow of warmth. I wasn't sleepy, quite the opposite.

My head was reeling with what Seychelles told me. "_She thinks I'm perfect," I_ thought, trying to sort through the mess in my head. "_Seychelles thinks I'm perfect and she loves Sadiq. Holy crap, she loves Sadiq."_

Ten minutes passed and Lady Gaga started singing again. I reached blindly for the alarm clock, ready to silence her again when a thought occurred to me. Where was Sadiq? The jerk should have tried to wake me by now- we were running behind schedule. Stiffly, I sat up and rubbed the sand from my eyes.

His usual chair was empty.

"Sadiq?" I called, eyes scanning the empty room. My heart beat against my rib cage. Where was he? "Sadiq?" I crawled to the edge of my bed with the intention of jumping off and checking the bathroom. But then I found him.

My mentor laid sprawled out on the floor, eyes closed and chest still.

The scream escaped me before I could stop it.

* * *

**MW: **Just wait, it'll take me another month to update. Pfft, I'm kidding. Hopefully. By the way, my birthday passed and I am now 16. Not to be greedy or anything, but presents would be awesome ;D

Anyways, thankies everyone for supporting this. Remember to review!

**Funfacts**

"Imagine that your head is made of tiny boxes…" From the song "Turn it Off" from the Book of Mormon. Be careful, it's addictive.

**Next Chapter: **Sadiq finally goes into his past to reveal how all of this is happening.

**REVIEW SVP! **


	11. Gosh Sadiq, You're Life Just Sucks

**MW: **Halleluiah! I'm updating within a reasonable amount of time!

**SEK **and **BFTL: **Praise the fanfiction gods!

**MW: **Yeah, but unfortunately most of this chapter is in third person and I suck at it so it's not that very well written. Oh well, it was too important to leave out anyways.

**BFTL: **Dup-dup! Hey Wolf, are you going to tell the reader the tumblr story?

**SEK: **Yeah, it's kind of ironic.

**MW: ***sigh* Fine. In my free time when I don't want to write, I browse through Hetalia critic blogs on tumblr. One day as I was looking through one that specializes in fanfictions, I found this whole conversation about this story. It wasn't anything bad (mostly) but I was just sitting at my computer awkwardly. Like seriously, what was I supposed to do?

**SEK: **Thank the lord that you have so many readers that an incident like that is possible?

**MW: **Right. Thank you to everyone who been reading and commenting (Especially **themeowmaster, **you were the only one who wished me happy birthday)! We're at so many reviews that I think that I'm going to die again—

**SEK **and **BFTL: **DON'T!

**MW: **. . . yeah, remember to review.

**Chapter Summary: **Sadiq goes into a long explanation about how everything in this tale came to be.

**Warnings: **Strong Language, Sexual Themes (emphasis on this), Yaoi

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I still do not own Hetalia. If I did, my crack pairings would be canon.

* * *

**~Chapter 11~ **

**Gosh Sadiq, You're Life Just Sucks**

"_Got a little motto, always sees me through: _

_When you're good to Mama: Mama's good to you._

_There's a lot of favors I'm prepared to do._

_You do one for Mama, she'll do one for you."_

-_**From "When You're Good to Mama", a song from the American Broadway Production "Chicago" **_

* * *

**Real World: Some time Ago**

In this strange world was the constant presence of chattering players. Most of them were dressed in the everyday clothes of the normal world, but a vast majority was wearing colorful outfits and fancy wigs. Identification cards dangled from around their necks as they pushed their ways to each attraction- everything from shops, to panels, to other fans like themselves.

This was the city's largest convention center, the site of the last anime con Bella and I attended.

It was a little after three in the afternoon and we were both lingering at the outside quad, butts on the rich grass. We had just finished attending an abridging panel and just wanted some fresh air. She- dressed in a convincing Finland cosplay -quickly flipped through her iPhone messages as I idly looked through the pictures on my camera. Many of them were of Bella with other cosplayers. She made an excellent nation and pretty much everyone who had at least heard of Hetalia wanted a picture with her.

It was when I was checking over a snap shot of her with a Sweden cosplayer (this one was even a _guy) _when Bella sighed angrily. "Is something wrong?" I asked absently, silently jealous of the attention her cosplay majesty brought. I would cosplay myself, but there were no ginger characters I could pull off.

All of them were skinny with a sex appeal. . .

Bella tiredly placed her phone down and gave me an annoyed look. "Sherry, don't you ever get tired of this?" She asked.

"Tired of what?" Deep inside, I prayed that it was the attention she sought. Yeah, that got tiring _long _ago.

She motioned to the crowd in front of us. "This. Hetalia."

I put down my phone and gave her a you-got-to-be-kidding-me look. "Are you bored with it?" I asked, irritation pricking my tone. I didn't mind the fact that she was leaving the fandom, not at all, it was just that she would probably make an insulting comment about it and I would then have to kill her.

But lucky for her, the blonde shook her head. "Far from it, it's just . . ." She took a deep breath and looked out once again at the mass of excited nerds and otakus. "Do you ever get tired of the fandoms?"

I blinked. I hadn't seen that coming and I didn't think I had a good reply to it. As I pulled on the grass beneath us, I flipped through my feelings on them. They were really fun- having a group of people who all love the same thing you do, especially the Hetalia one. Once you found your people, you could go on and on about everything you love and hate about it.

But, at the same time, it was the double edged sword. What happened when you didn't find 'your people' was painful. If I, a 'FrUk' shipper, walked into a 'UsUk' shipping group, I would be bombarded with hate. How could I like the pervert? How could I not see how great America and England were together? Did I at least agree with them who the uke or seme were?

I sighed. "I think you're being overly dramatic," I said, trying to return my attention back to the camera. That Sweden cosplayer was really hot. "It's not bad, I mean, we at least have kick ass artwork."

"Watch your language."

"Like I give a fuck."

Bella sighed, taking off her white hat. For an instant, her hand reached under her wig and scratched at the irritated scalp. "That's exactly the problem, Sher-Bear," she said, sounding very much like a lecturing teacher. I rolled my eyes and made a mockful face as she said, "It's as if no one gives a care about it."

"People care, Bel. You're just making a big deal out of nothing."

"It's not nothing." My best friend picked up her phone and started flipping through her saved pages. "Hey, remember that one journal floating around back in April. The France cosplayer one?"

Of course I did. It was a small journal going around deviantArt a while ago. It was a story about how a France cosplayer was at a con when someone knocked them down and harangued them for being a rapist. It pricked a nerve with me since I obviously love his character and he's only a mild pervert. He _never _forced his love on anyone.

When I told her I did, she started off on her big, poetic rant. "The thing is that people don't care about what others do to the Hetalia name. People like that France hater are the reasons why the Hetalia fandom sucks."

I pressed my lips into a tight, irritated line. I growled, "Alright,_ Miss Moon_, how do we make it un-suck?"

"Respect." She leaned back, looking up at the sky. It was partially cloudy, fluffy white puff drifting over the sun. The beauty ignored my bewildered look as she said, "Every problem in the world can be changed if people only respected one another. But, world peace is slim. Fandom peace can actually happen. If every 'RusAme' shipper respected every 'UsUk' shipper, and every Cuba hater respected every Cuba lover, then we would be a better fandom."

I was silent for a long moment, trying to think of a mature sounding response. Seriously, she was making this difficult. "That can't happen, Bel. Everyone wants to be right. 'Respecting' others is only admitting that you might be wrong."

"That's not true."

"But it is." I fell back onto the grass and raised the camera screen to my face. I started studying an image of the Sweden cosplayer kissing Bella's white cheek. "Just stay away from the people you don't like. Looking at hater profiles is going to ruin everything for you."

She allowed herself a small shrug as she sighed, "I guess you're right . . ."

An awkward silence settled between us. We had another minute of piece before two cosplayers dressed as Canada and Japan wanted to take pictures with her. Like usual, I had to smile and take their pictures for them.

We hadn't talked about it since.

A few months later, I woke up in Seychelles's body.

* * *

**Cycle 12: Tuesday**

"Sherry?" Mumbling, I snuggled closer to my pillow and tried my best to ignore the person trying to wake me. Things in the world were too stressful- give me five more minutes to visit the bliss of the dream land. "Sherry, get up," the voice, a male, asked again. "This is really embarrassing." It wasn't until the hand I had been holding left mine did I remember what was going on.

My eyes slammed open and I realized my surroundings. After waking up to find Sadiq on the floor, I called for help. Nurse Pangaea took him in immediately, telling me that he had a very small concussion. "He's a nation, dear, so once he wakes up he'll be as good as new," she told me, as she had tucked him into the patient's bed in her infirmary.

That had been a little over twenty-four hours ago. The whole time, I never left his side. I pulled up an uncomfortable chair, held his hand, and prayed for my mentor to open his eyes. At one point, Switzerland came in to ban me from the prom, but Nurse Pangaea wrote up an excuse slip and told him to piss off. A few hours later, I fell asleep.

Which brought me to my latest dilemma: my head was lying on a now awake Sadiq's lap. _"Well this is awkward,"_ I thought, snapping away with a red face. However, my flustered head cleared when I saw his honey eyes.

They were wide awake, demanding that I explain what had happened and what I was even doing here. For some reason, just looking at his tanned face eased some of my worries. He was alive and here to help me. "Are you alright?" I asked, running my hand through my messed-up hair. "How are you feeling?"

He blinked. ". . . I'm feeling fine," he said, looking down at himself. He seemed to notice for the first time that he was no longer in his school uniform, but one of those hospital sets of pajamas. "What am I doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing." His eyes never left me as I explained, "I just woke up yesterday to find you out cold on the floor. And considering what happened before that . . ." I hadn't even realized that I was crying until my voice broke. I buried my face in my palms, sobbing unashamedly. "I was so fucking worried; I thought that you were dead or-"

"Sherry." I felt the Turk place a heavy hand on my shoulder. He rubbed it, trying to quell my shaking form. "There is nothing to be worried about," he calmly stated. Tired, but calm. "The pain happens every cycle."

I looked up at him. "What?"

"Well, you die every cycle and I go through _that." _We were silent for a long moment. Nurse Pangaea was off looking at her manly porn, paying no heed to what we were doing. "Where are my clothes?" He asked suddenly.

I picked an old Macy's bag off the floor. "They're in here."

"Thanks." As he rummaged through it, he asked, "What day is it?"

Oh no, the part I've been dreading. "Tuesday."

Sadiq paused for a moment, realizing something for the first time. "A whole day?" he muttered, knitting his eyebrows together. "I wasn't even in the Room, so why would it keep me out for so long . . ."

"It could be because this is the last cycle," I hesitantly offered, trying to be helpful. Maybe if I got on his good side now, he wouldn't be so mad at me.

_Ding-ding! _I got the question right! "That sounds just about right," he said, pulling his uniform pants from the bag. For a moment, I thought that his distracted gaze meant that he was going to leave me alone. "So what progress have you made so far?" And like that, the hope was gone.

When the nervous grin appeared on my visage, Sadiq frown deeply. He said, "Don't tell me that you did nothing."

"I was worried about you!" I defended, placing a hand on my chest. "I thought that you were dead!"

"Idiot! Nations can't die!"

"I do it every week!"

He smacked his forehead. His obvious annoyance made me want to truly smile. It felt like old times- the two of us, hating each other's guts to some degree. Not that I don't like our strange friendship, but there was a pleasant nostalgia to it. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for a long speech. "Sherry, it's true that we die, but we can come back," he said. "It's hard to, but when we're killed another version of us appears to take our place. We're mostly the same- same memories and appearance. But our personality might be slightly different."

"Like Dr. Who?" I prompted. It did sound pretty similar, though the idea of David Tennant version of Sadiq had me giggling.

He only looked confused. "What's that?" Of course.

"It's a British show where-"

"Do I Iook British to you?" I stuck my tongue at him and we returned to a pleasant silence. It was the nice kind you get into with your best friend after a long day at the beach. The car would be humming while you just looked out the window with sun burnt faces. No words needed to be spoken; there was only the appreciation for a day well spent.

Sadiq, unfortunately, did not have the same appreciation I had. He was noisily reaching into his pants pockets searching for something unknown. I rolled my eyes. "What are you looking for?" I asked.

He ignored me. The Turk's face was drawn in concentration until his fingers found the treasure. Relief shone brightly when he pulled out a familiar object. It was the gold pocket watch, dangling from its elegant chain. I blinked. I hadn't seen that in a very long time. I had almost forgotten that it even existed.

Gingerly, Sadiq trailed his fingers over the closed face, studying the texture. His yellow reflection stared back at his haunted eyes.

The question I have been asking since the start of everything came back to me, but this time I had to courage to voice it. "Sadiq, what _is _that?"

He looked up at me, the haunted look never leaving him. It scared me to think what the answer was. Just as I started to wish I never asked, he clicked the cover open. He presented the egg-white face carefully, showing me the stray hand that now pointed at the twelve- midnight. For a long moment, he was silent, trying to discover a way to explain it to me. A few times, his mouth opened and the words looked ready to come out, but he would only change his mind.

Just as I thought that he was going to push me away, he spoke. "This . . . this is my chain." His what? I didn't have to understand what he meant to hear the pain. The words were full of a hidden suffering I never knew him to have.

They broke my heart. I reached out to give him the comforting hand he gave me. "Sadiq . . ."

He shook his head and brushed me away. "Sherry, there are things that I never told you. At first I told myself that it was to protect the helpless girl I got mixed up in all of this, but I was just lying to myself." Yeah, Seychelles was the one to drag me into this. "I never told you because . . ." He took a long breath. "Because I was afraid."

I asked, "Are you no longer-"

"No, I'm more scared than ever." The brunette handed me the watch, pressing it deep into my hands. His eyes were looking at the bed sheets when he said, "But by not saying anything, I was just trying to convince myself that what happened never did. And now, I just . . . I just need to tell someone or else I'm afraid that I'm going to break again."

I took a hand away from the watch and placed it on his cheek. His stubble seemed thicker than usual, maybe because of his day knocked out. "I promise that no matter what, I'll be here," I told him, trying to offer comfort.

But a smile never graced his lips. Sadiq brushed me away and leaned into his pillow. He took a deep breath, gathering the memories together. "It all started around a year ago, around the time the school first opened. . ."

* * *

**Sadiq's Past: One Year Ago**

"I don't have any money to give you," Estonia pleaded, looking up at the person who he called his superior: Russia. There really wasn't anything threatening by what the Russian said- he had just wanted to borrow some money so that he could buy a nice bouquet for the man he wanted to ask out. But the Baltic was so wrapped up in his days in the Soviet Union that he was trembling in fear.

Turkey understood this completely. He spied on them from a nearby corner, waiting for a moment to strike. Unlike Switzerland, he took the time to understand what was going on before he made a move. The problem was that if he didn't make a move soon, the cheese face was going to appear and his whole plan was going to be ruined.

With a sigh, he reluctantly made his presence known. "Russia . . ." He turned the corner, threateningly glaring at the two ex-Soviets. They looked at him: one with relief, the other with indifference.

The indifferent one smiled the best he could. "Hello Comrade Turkey," he greeted happily. He cute look on his face made Turkey shiver. Even he thought that Russia was scary, not that he would ever let anyone know that. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can." He looked between the two men again, deciding on the best way to solve this. Estonia obviously wanted to get away, but Russia obviously wanted him to stay. Decisions, decisions . . . "I just wanted you to know that Hungary's lending money to all the gay guys," he stated plainly. "I don't know why- it's just part of her freakish fetish or something."

Russia smiled and at last turned away from his victim. "Thank you for telling me that, comrade," he said, walking past them. "I shall make sure to take advantage of that offer. Good bye!" His heavy steps echoed around the halls as he walked further and further away. It wasn't until they were mere muffles did Estonia breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank you so much, Turkey," he said, beaming brightly at the man. "Is there anything I can-"

He shook his head. "It was nothing. Now go before-"

"_Turkey_!"

The Baltic State had enough sense to scamper away before the gun went off. But when it did, Turkey only grinned and turned to face the storming Swiss. "I was wondering where you were!" He called out cockily, ignoring the fact that Switzerland had roughly grabbed the collar of his shirt.

Angry green eyes met his, daring him to make another sound. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Switzerland growled, ignoring the stray blond hairs in his face. "This is _my _job, not yours."

His smirk never left him when he placed a delicate hand on his attacker's chin. "What's wrong, Switzy?" He asked mischievously, quirking his eyebrows. "All I want is just a little attention from my boyfriend."

For a few seconds, his love said nothing. He only continued to glare up at him stubbornly. But he could not resist any longer. He reached up and placed a hard kiss on the Turkey's lips. Like always, Turkey tasted like sweet apple juice. "You're an idiot," He muttered, wrapped his arms around the other's neck. "If you wanted attention, you could have just asked."

The brunette chuckled, pressing his love closer to him. "Asking isn't very romantic," he said, before deepening their kiss. Mouths opened and tongues fought for dominance with no avail.

Head spinning so fast, Switzerland nearly didn't notice when his boyfriend was pushing him into the nearest empty classroom. He nonchalantly kicked the door close behind him and pressed Turkey into the nearest wall. "I'm topping," he said, already pulling off the other's blazer.

The Mediterranean nation laughed, reaching for the Swiss's belt. "No, I am. This is a science classroom," he stated. "And we agreed that I get to top if we're in a lab."

"We also agreed back in 1750 that-" They kissed again. "-No one can top twice in a row."

Turkey rolled his eyes. "Ugh, fine." They broke apart as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. "Heads or tails?"

The blonde started to finish the job of pulling off his plaid pants. "Heads." The coin was thrown high in the air and landed with a clink on the wood floor. They both look down at it- one grinned, the other scowled. "Fine, you win." Switzerland laid on the floor and allowed his longtime boyfriend and hover on top of his. "But next time, I get to dominate."

Due to the fact that this is, in fact, not a lemon fanfiction and the writer is a full-fledged Catholic, you guys will be spared the pleasure of getting a steamy sex session (no worry guys, I'm doing this for your own good). I can, however, skip to the post sex cuddling talk that a lot of reader insert writers seem to forget to write.

Laying on the ice cold floors, Turkey affectionately played with the ends of his boyfriend's blond locks. He loved to mess around with them- maybe it was his normal side that still yearned for a woman's touch. Doubt it, but that man's hair was very feminine. Pressing his face into his scalp, he smiled. "Hey Switzy."

Switzerland snuggled- in a manly way, mind you -closer to the Turk's warm, toned chest. "Hmm?"

"What do you think would happen if we weren't countries?"

Switzerland turned to him, eyebrows pushed together, asking, "What makes you say that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's was just a small thought."

A soft sigh left his lips. "Well if you think that we're going to live some sort of _Titanic _fairytale, you are completely wrong." Switzerland danced the tips of his fingers along the strong arm wrapped around him, saying, "I guess my name would be Vash- a lot of people inside of me seemed to be named that."

Turkey kissed his forehead. "Well if we're giving ourselves names, I'm going to be Sadiq. Sadiq Adnan. And-" he squeezed him harder, nearly breaking the other's ribs. "-we'll live together with Cyprus and Liechtenstein as our children. We'll be Sadiq and Vash Adnan."

"Hold on! Who said that _I _was the wife?"

"I did. My new last name sounds amazing with your's."

He flushed. "That's because you didn't give me a chance to choose my own!" The Swiss practically shrieked. "It's going to be Zwingli."

Turkey smirked. "You're still the wife."

Switzerland could not help himself but to crack up laughing. "You're unbelievable, Sadiq!" He exclaimed, clutching his sides.

Two brows were raised. "Are these going to be our new pet names?" His grin grew wider. "I like it, Vash."

They kissed again. Since their hook-up back in the 1700s (give or take a few centuries), the two men have been inseperatable. Neither of them could remember how they survived without of the other. The men found a sense of security in each other. A security from love.

Three months passed with no new developments. Everything at the school was in place- that is, except for the near suicide attempt by Germany, but that is a different story. Valentine's day was around the corner and love for every couple was in the air. Like literally, it was rumored that France and England spiked the air with some sort of love potion.

Turkey had his own plans to surprise his longtime love. He had the ingenious plan of bringing him a bouquet of bright white edelweiss. He had to sneak off campus to do so, but getting yelled at by Principle Pangaea was well worth the surprise he'll see on Switzerland's face when he gives them.

Whistling "My Heart Will Go On", he strutted down the hallway with a sense of pride. The air around him was as cocky as most would expect. At first, there was nothing that appeared out of the ordinary. Couples were kissing and bringing the hormone levels onto a high. But then, he started to notice the sympathetic gazes of every person he met. Turkey lost his air and felt his heart drop. Something was _very _wrong.

Seeing a comforting face, the man quickened to a jog. "Hey Kid!" Iceland turned to him, his face immediately flashing with sympathy. "What's going on?"

The silver haired man bit his lip and held his puffin closer to his chest. He hesitantly asked, "Pops, you don't know?" A small shook of the head made him nervously bit his lip. "Oh Pops, I'm so sorry."

Ten minutes later, he was in the infirmary, holding the hand of the man he loved. Switzerland laid in one of the beds, eyes closed and tubes coming from his arms and nose. "We don't know what happened," Nurse Pangaea said, sounding comforting for once. "Miss Liechtenstein just found him like this." A hand found its way onto his shoulder. "His body isn't going to make it, dear. Switzerland is dying."

Turkey didn't say anything, only pressed his lips to the limp hand's finger. The woman eventually gave up and left him alone. Nations can't die forever- Switzerland can come back. But he would never be exactly the same. His personality might be slightly different and it was such a slight chance that they ended up together in the first place.

He didn't want to think of a world where his Switzerland didn't love him.

"Please don't die," he whispered, feeling his eyes grow heavy with tears. "Please." There was no response, only the steady beeping of the heart monitor. His heart fell, causing a hoarse sob to ring through his throat. "I wish you'll live."

A dizzy feeling overcame him and the world around him faded into a black sleep.

What felt like milliseconds afterwards, Turkey's honey eyes were opening to a world of white. His head felt muffled- as if there was something preventing his mind from thinking properly. But slowly, everything started to process.

He was sitting on a white chair, in a white glossed room, wearing starched white clothes. The sheer brightness of it all made his head hurt. "The hell . . ." He slowly stood, relieved to find that his legs still worked. "Hello?" He called, pacing in a small circle. "Is anyone there?"

"Welcome, Turkey." He jumped, head shooting to every corner of the room. Where was that voice coming from? "Please don't bother- I'm not anywhere near you."

"Who are you?" The nation asked, eyes still searching for the answer. "Where the hell am I?"

The Voice gave a light laugh, saying, "You may call me whatever you want, Turkey. But this room is my domain. You're here because I just might be able to help you."

Turkey's back found one of the walls. They felt cold, dead even. "Help me with what?"

This time, the laugh sounded full of hidden mocking. "With your little problem, of course. Look." Suddenly, pooling at his feet, was an image of Switzerland lying unresponsive in the hospital bed. Turkey felt a hand tighten around his heart. How badly he wanted to see his love's smiling face again . . .

"How?" he asked, unable to pull his eyes away.

If he had a clearer head, he might have sensed the smirk in the Voice's tone. "We make a little contract, Turkey," it explained. "In return for your boyfriend's life, you'll give me something _worth _a life."

"Like what?"

"Your soul." Turkey unconsciously placed a hand over his chest. It clicked in his head immediately what was going on: this was a deal with the devil. If he did this, something bad was going to happen to him. Then who would be there for the new Switzerland? "Remember, Sadiq-" A contract and pen appeared on the floor next to Switzerland's image. "-He doesn't have much time left." Turkey felt his resolve melt. What if the new version hates him? That happened to Russia back in the day. "You're the only one who can save him."

That did it. "You have to promise that nothing bad will happen to him," Turkey said, taking the pen off the ground. "If anyone is going to be hurt in this, it's going to be _me, _got it?"

There was a silence, as if the Voice had to think it over. But, at last, the final chuckle rang through the air. "You have my word."

His eyes scanned the contract: a series of small black text put together in a secure contract. Years of dealing with lawmakers allowed him to easily scan them and understand what was required. He just had to listen to this guy and do whatever he said. That sounded easy enough. Turkey quickly scribbled his name on the bottom line.

The next thing he knew, his eyes were opening to the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor. For a moment, Turkey could not recall anything that happened. Maybe, it had all been one crazy dream. But then, the sweet noise of a moan reached his ears.

"W-what's going on?" Switzerland muttered, lifting a heavy hand to his forehead. His green eyes drifted downwards to see his love's head on his lap. " . . . The hell?" Turkey smiled, feeling him nudged his head. He was alive. "Hey, what are you-"

Turkey jumped up and planted a passionate kiss on the other's lips. Everything about the Voice was forgotten in the relief and happiness of having his alive again. The world was good again.

But it was only for a moment- Switzerland wasn't kissing him back. Slowly, the brunette pulled away, looking at him expectantly. Maybe he was going a little too fast for him. . .

"Creep!" Turkey gasped, feeling a hot red sting on his cheek. His hand reached for the area as his brain tried to register what had happened. Did Switzerland just _slap_him? The blond was fiercely wiping his hand over his mouth, complaining, "Oh my God, I can't believe you just fucking did that!"

The words tumbled out before he could stop them. "What do you mean?"

"You just kissed me!" The blond snapped, jabbing a finger into a chest. "You- a complete stranger -just _kissed _me!" It was as if the world around him just shattered.

A deal with the devil . . .

Desperately, Turkey grabbed his shoulders and lightly shook them. "I'm Turkey- your boyfriend!" he exclaimed. "We've been together since the pirate days! You love me, Vash!"

"Get the fuck away from me!" The Swiss's hand pressed onto his chest- right over the heart -and shoved him away. Turkey fell out of his stool and landed sharply on his ass. He was stunned, too scared to move. His deal back fired.

Switzerland, his love, was alive again, but he didn't remember the man he spent centuries loving. The Voice promised that no one but Turkey would be hurt and have no doubt, he was hurt.

Badly.

Nurse Pangaea finally noticed that her patient was awake and promptly kicked the ex-boyfriend out into the cold hall. Determined, Turkey came back multiple times to try and convince Switzerland that they knew each other, but the hatred only grew worse. One day, months later, even Turkey was starting to hate Switzerland as much as he loved him. Any mention of him made the Turk growl out a series of curses. The school eventually learned to just pretend that the relationship never happened. Eventually, Turkey just shook his head and gave up.

The Voice had won.

For another month, he sulked. Every possible moment he could, he sat at the bar and drowned his sorrows in heavy alcohol. The hard reality that there was a life without Switzerland was hitting him hard in the face. Occasionally, people like Japan and Iceland tried to get him back into the social life, but he always refused. "Why should I?" He would demand. "There's just no fucking point."

That is, until someone else offered their condolences. "Hey Turkey!" Poland chirped one night, giddily taking a seat on the empty stool next to him. It was late in the night; the bar was only occupied by them and the rest of the night birds. "How are you?"

Turkey groaned. "What do you want, Poland?" he asked harshly, bringing his drink to his lips. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

The blond smiled and shook his head. His locks seemed to sway in perfect synchronization. It only made Turkey sick; they looked too much like Switzerland's for his liking. "You are, like, the better thing to do!" The happy one exclaimed.

Turkey choked. "'What?"

"I noticed that you've been, like, totally moody lately," Poland said, placing a comforting hand on his back. "So I decided to help you and stuff!"

He rolled his eyes and hopped out of the chair. "Thanks, but I got better things to do."

He had barely walked three steps when the Pole piped up again. "I got the _Titanic." _Turkey paused in his tracks. "I also got two gallons of chocolate ice cream in my dorm," the blonde continued, twirling his hair absently. "If you want, we could, like, make a night of it."

The brunette hesitated. He didn't want a relationship with anyone at the moment. In fact, he just wanted to get away from people in general. Being alone was the smart thing to do. But it was the _Titanic _and there was going to be sweet, sweet ice cream. When was the last time he did anything fun?

"Alright, jackass, you win," Turkey grumbled, trying not to sound excited at the thought of the James Cameron flick. "But just this once, got it?" Poland grinned and nodded.

But the thing about Poland was that with him, nothing ever turned out the way they should. Day after day, he would hunt down the Mediterranean and ask him to join him in some crazy scheme. "Let's go paint to gym lockers pink!" He said one day. "Let's change the clock tower back to daylight savings time and screw everyone up!" He would exclaim the other.

Turkey didn't know what happened. One moment, he loathes the man and the next his heart flutters whenever he sees him. But it was not until Poland had given him a sparkling pink scarf (one, that he immediately regarded as valuable as gold) did he realize it.

He was, as that one song so tactfully put it, "accidentally love." And the strange thing was, he didn't care. For the first time in a long time, Sadiq felt happy. He hada reason to get up in the morning and reason was Poland.

But if you take an eye, you must pay with an eye.

Poland and Turkey had been officially dating for a few months when it happened again. The brunette opened his eyes to the stunning whiteness. As he told Sherry about it, Turkey admitted that the first thing he felt was fear. He had no need to remember the Voice and his bargain until the dawn of its consequences.

But when it came, it came hard. Turkey, in his white starched clothes, jumped to the closed door and tried to yank it open. Panic blazed through his blood as he sought a way to free himself from this nightmare. But, like always, the lock refused to give. "What's wrong?" A booming voice asked. Turkey froze, suddenly feeling a cold hand wrapped around his neck. "Are you scared, Turkey?"

He grimaced, trying to forget the cold grip on him. "I'm not scared," he lied. The glossed walls reflected the Voice's form back at him. If he remembered clearly, he wasn't allowed to look back at him and frankly, he couldn't command his body to. "I just want out of here."

"But, Turkey, we have a deal," the Voice innocently said. Innocent, but mocking. "I brought your love back to you-"

A long irritated nerve was pricked. "You killed the Switzerland that I knew!" The single man shouted. "He didn't even remember me- you broke our contract!"

"No I didn't. I gave you what you wanted, but you lost what you had. Sadiq, I have been very generous-"

"Don't you fucking call me that!" Turkey swatted the hand away and found the courage to face the devil. But before he could even get a glimpse of its face, he was on the floor, chest pressed onto the cold, cold floor. The fear he did his best to deny returned again.

The Voice placed its boot on his back, bending down until it was close to his face. "Remember that contract you signed?" it asked, speaking softly into his ear. "It stated that you can never look at me and can never disobey me. As far as I'm concerned, you are doing both."

The man lifted his face off the floor, spitting, "I refuse to obey a monster like you!"

The Turk's am shot up into the air at an awkward angle. He yelled, feeling his shoulder dislocated. What was happening? Why couldn't he control his body? The cause for it- the Voice -made him stretch his arm as far as he could. It was taking out a long harbored anger on him. From what, the nation couldn't say, but it wasn't satisfied until his arm popped out of his socket.

Turkey's painful screaming brought it back to reality. With one simple thought, his arm was released and it fell limply at his side. For a moment, it was silent. "_What is he thinking?" _Turkey wondered, feeling his shoulder ache vividly. "_What _was _that all about?" _

At last, it spoke. "I like you Sadiq," it said evenly, as if it was not the cause of its victim's previous pain. "I like you a lot. I just want you to be happy. So, even with everything you've done, I believe that I can reach an agreement with you." The Voice seemed to bend down closer as it whispered, "See here, I created this world for the enjoyment of my own. There are millions of people in a parallel universe who know every nation's face."

Turley rolled his eyes, saying, "Yeah right. Next you'll tell me that Poland hates the color pink."

"Take this seriously," The other ordered. "This might be your last chance for freedom." That was enough to silence him. "Anyways, the people of this universe have a particular hatred of Seychelles. You know her, right?" Turkey frowned. The only thing he really knew about her was that she stopped Germany from killing himself. She and him lived in two different social circles and barely spoke. "Well I want to give a certain hater the lesson of a lifetime."

The plan was explained. A normal human girl would be possessing Seychelles's body until she can learn what it was like to be her. This would be proven when she can get France or England to prove their love by a kiss. They had until midnight of the prom to do it until the cycle repeated itself. "And you have only twelve tries," The Voice finished.

Turkey pressed his lips together. "And what do I get in return?" he asked.

"Your soul." That was enough to seal the deal and the Voice knew it. "Here." From wherever, it pulled out a golden pocket watch. "Here's a little something to remember me by," it said, placing it on the floor by Turkey's face. "It'll tell you what cycle you're on." It removed its foot, allowing him to sit up. The moment he did, a new contract appeared. "Sign it."

This time, Turkey read the whole thing carefully, noting everything he didn't like. The dying part really didn't seem very pleasant to him, but it was something else that caused him to frown. What if he was repeating last cycle's mistake? "You cannot drag Poland into this," he said. "You cannot lay a finger on him."

The tight frown could clearly be heard in its tone. "Done."

The text guaranteeing it appeared and Turkey scratched his name on the bottom. The contract and disappeared and a rush a dread overcame him. "_What did I just do?" _He wondered, taking the watch off the ground. It was way heavier than it looked. The Turk turned it easily in his hands before realizing something. The delicate gold chain was connected to his wrist. . .

Like a shackle.

Turkey's heart dropped as he quickly threw the thing away. But the chain kept it- him -at bay. "Do you like it?" The Voice asked, physical form disappearing. "I thought that it'd add a nice touch."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find a proper response. This watch symbolized the deal, his imprisonment. It laughed again, voice bouncing around the walls. "Good luck, Sadiq!"

The nation's consciousness slipped away and he felt himself drift in a black sleep for what felt like a long time. It was like sleep- his whole being was comfortably numb. Everything from his skin to his mind. He never wanted it to end. Eventually, his eyes opened to the clean dorm of Seychelles.

Cycle one had started.

"_You can do this, Turkey," _The man thought, feeling a new weight in his pocket. It was the watch.

At first, as he waited for the alarm to go off, he did his best to take in his surroundings. When the pictures of beaches and pallid walls became well engraved in his brain, he faced the facts. If he was going to get his soul back, he needed a plan. "_Hopefully, this girl wouldn't be too much of an idiot." _He sighed, rolling his still aching shoulder. Yes, it hurt but at least it was back in its socket. "_At least we have all our classes together and I can look over her."_

For the next few minutes, he ran over everything he knew about France and England, trying to figure out a loophole she could slip through. But deep inside, he knew that he was just avoiding the inevitable. He had to look at the watch.

Slowly, he drew the golden watch from his pocket. When it wasn't in that room, it didn't seem half as intimidating- the chain wasn't ominously connecting to his wrist. _"It's just a watch," _he told himself, opening the cover of the moon-white clock face. A small smirk traveled up his face. He wasn't afraid of it.

In a way, it didn't have to represent his imprisonment. It could represent how he was brave and fearless to the _thing _that tried to oppress him. He could actually do this.

"What the hell!" Turkey did his best to hide his token as he searched for the source of the problem. The girl (Seychelles?) was awake and taking her first look at herself. He stared at her. Crap, she was even more scared than him. "_The least I can do is pretend that I know what I'm doing," _

Taking a deep breath, he placed a cool composure on his face and quickly ordered, "Do not scream." He took a deep breath. He was doing well so far. "Turn around and face me, Seychelles." He waited for a few moments, waiting for the girl to look him straight in the eye. The only problem was that she stood stock still. He took another breath. She was panicking, remember? He had to be the strong one here. With a strong will, he ordered again, "I said, turn around, Seychelles."

From there on, everyone knows what happened. He did his best to sound in control of the situation as he explained to this strange girl, Sherry Sue, everything that was going on. But she was distraught to the point where bungee jumping with a broken cord could seem like a good idea.

But it wasn't until the whole "what the hell is shea butter" incident did he suddenly realize something. In every nation's eyes was a glint of knowing- a tone developed from living for so long. Sherry didn't have it. Seychelles's eyes were wide and full of nativity. She truly was just an ordinary girl. As he dragged her to History Teacher Pangaea's class, he couldn't help but to feel his hatred for the Voice increase.

There was no justification for this child to be here. That monsterprobably chose her for that very reason. Another way to mess Turkey up.

Just as he came upon the classroom door, the bell rang, signaling the start of class. He stopped, cursing, "Damnit, late." For a moment, he straightened his blue plaid pants and fixed his hoodie and scarf. "Remember, no one knows about this except us," he reminded, feeling the watch bounce around his pocket. "So I have to start calling you Seychelles now, got it?"

Sherry nodded. He let loose the smallest of smiles- that is, until, "Sure, but can I call you Sadiq?"

Turkey stared at her. The moment Switzerland and him chose that name came flooding back. No one but Switzy called him that. It was something precious between the two of them. But if he was to deny her that pleasure, he would have to explain why and frankly, he wasn't ready. He wanted to keep everything that happened between his ex-boyfriend deep in the past, as far away from the present as possible. So he relented, saying, "Um, sure, but not in public."

He said one last explanation before letting her go inside. As he watched her go, he could not help but to feel his heart drop, because . . .

* * *

**Cycle 12: Tuesday**

". . . You just seemed like a little girl," Sadiq finished, uncomfortably twisting the sheets on him. He was frowning, but it was not his usual annoyed one. No, this one was just the dictionary definition of sorrow. It was as if every inch of him was covered with it; everything from his trembling hands to his honey eyes.

I watched him with a dead tongue. I wanted to say something to him: a condolence or a sign that I understood why he did it, but no words came to me. He didn't wait for them though, only gave up on the sheets and placed his free hands over his face. "I'm sorry," he muttered for what felt like the millionth time. "I should have just gone with the contract- you had nothing to do with this, Sherry, you shouldn't even be here."

I scooted forward in my stool, enough so that I could comfortably place my hands on his shoulders. Trying to comfort him, I said the first thing that came to my mind: "Are you kidding? I'm in freaking Hetalia, I'm having the time of my life!" Can I get the merit badge for insensitivity? It was so bad that my chirpy grin was removed by the defeated glare he gave me.

A frown appeared on my visage. Okay, humor wasn't what was going to get him to calm down. I bit my lip, trying to figure out _what _would. Perhaps, I could try the daughterly love thing again. I mean, it only failed last time because he was in panic mode. Maybe now it would work.

Gently, I rubbed his shoulders, in hushed tones telling him to quell his fears. "Remember what I told you earlier?" I asked. "About the love thing?" I felt him stiffen under my grip, but when he said nothing, I took it as the green light to continue. "It's as true then as it is now. Sadiq, you know what I think of my father, you understand what you mean to me then, right?"

"Then I make a terrible father," he replied solemnly. "With everything I did to you."

"Your freaking soul was on the line; I would have done the exact same thing."

We were silent for a long moment. I rubbed his upper arms and he looked down guiltily. Multiple times, he started to open his mouth, but quickly closed it again. I tried not to give him an expectant look, but I didn't have to wait long anyways. "I love you like a daughter," he confessed, slowly forcing the words from his mouth. A remote corner of my mind reminded me of Seychelles's own feelings, but I quickly shoved them away when he started talking again.

"I've been afraid of loving anyone, ever since . . ." He stopped himself, tanned face turning a dead white. But, he pushed on. "But I'm done with hiding." He peeled my hands away and looked me straight in the eye. "Sherry, I want you to remember everything that I am about to tell you." Sadiq's eyes were blazing with an unspoken fury that complimented his determined tone. "The jackass- the Voice -I know what its name is."

Immediately, I asked, "Well what is it?"

"Hidekaz Himaruya."

I tried not to explode, but let's face it, you are probably also flipping out right now. "Himaruya!" I screeched, feeling my mind blown into smithereens. "Holy fucking shit!" Sadiq was giving me his surprised/confused look, occasionally stealing a glance at Nurse Pangaea. And she hasn't noticed our commotion why? "That's just- Oh my God, I did not see that coming!"

"Does that name mean something to you?" my mentor worriedly asked. I vaguely noticed his fingers lightly petting the watch.

Somehow, I was able to calm myself long enough to speak coherent words- not Tumblr speech (aka: asklkl;djie!) -to give him a shotgun explanation. "Himaruya is the creator of Hetalia," I exclaimed. "He made this world." As his eyes grew wide, my own words started to sink in. "Oh my God, it makes perfect sense. He would be the one to have power over everything. And he would care about Seychelles and-" I noticed the pained look on Sadiq's face as he clutched his head.

Anxiety griped me. "Hey, are you alright?" I asked, fretting over his being. "Are you feeling alright?"

He grimaced, shaking his head. "I feel dizzy," he breathed, wincing at my loud voice. "I'm going back to the room." I started to open my mouth, begging to find a miracle way of escape when he shook his head. "I have faith in you, Sherry." He smirked. "Go get that fucking kiss."

His eyes fluttered closed and he lay back in the bed- apparently asleep. But I knew better, he was going off to face his worst nightmare. A new sense of loyalty made me suck my gut in and raise my chin high. Sadiq broke one of the rules for me- why? I have no freaking clue. But he trusted me with the information, and now I had to prove to him that I could use it wisely.

Before setting off, I readjusted his pillow and made sure he was comfortable. I brushed his hair and found myself smiling. "Good luck," I whispered, hand drifting to the pocket watch. I squeezed it tightly before slipping the heavy object into my skirt pocket.

The weight now burdened me, not him.

* * *

**Cycle 12: The Room**

Turkey took in a sharp breath. He was back and no doubt, Himaruya would be pissed. But, as he sat on the white chair, the memories of what happened last time returned to him. Even now, he could feel that cold kiss on his lips. It made him feel dirty, disgusting even.

Enveloped on that feeling, the nation jumped from his seat and to the nearest corner. He pressed his back against the cold wall and scanned the space of the room. His racing heart calmed. There was no way Himaruya could approach him without giving away its face. Now, it couldn't touch him.

"What are you doing, Sadiq?" Himaruya asked, booming voice bouncing off all four walls. His only response was a glare aimed at the ceiling. The creator laughed. "You really are foolish, do you really think that a corner is going to stop me?" Turkey felt the wall behind him expand a few yards and, with his support removed, he fell back harshly. The moment his back made contact with the white floors, a foot was placed on his cheek, forcing him to look to the side. That gross numb feeling returned- the feeling of having no control over himself. All Turkey could do was look at the wall.

The glossed reflection, like always, showed the gentleman-like owner of the voice standing over him. "Have you forgotten that this is my world?" Himaruya demanded, losing its tone of eternal pleasure. "I can change whatever I want, that includes the size of this room."

Turkey didn't reply, only focus on the reflection.

A low 'tsk', followed by increase weight on his cheek made him wince. Still, he refused to say anything.

Now was the time to stop being this _thing's _doormat.

Now was the time to be brave.

"I am very disappointed in you, Sadiq," it said, still trying to hit the nerve. Again, silence. "I set some very simple set of rules, yet you refuse to abide by them."

"Your 'rules' are your way of appearing all grand and powerful," Turkey growled, furrowing his eyebrows together. "I know who you are now, Himaruya. You're just an ordinary person. This place is the only place where you have power. You go anywhere else and you're just as weak as I am."

The foot seemed to grow heavier as it bent down to his face. Cold breath danced around the edges of his ear as it whispered, "But you're forgetting, this is the only place you exist." He felt lips brush against his cheek. "I am the one with the power."

Honey eyes went wide when he felt the lips actually press against his skin. All the hairs on his back and neck pricked up and he felt his blood run colder than the North Sea. But, among all the fear that lied in the small contact, there was a fire of hatred burning.

As Himaruya moved his kisses along the Turk's jaw line, a compulsive spark ignited. Turkey flexed his fingers, feeling his control slowly returned. But, it was only when he felt the lips kiss the nape of his neck did the fire possess his whole being.

He shot his hand to Himaruya's face and shoved him back. It had a moment to realize that his control was gone before Turkey's revived legs kicked it hard in the chest. It flew back to the wall and the nation lunged at it. His hands clamped tightly around its neck.

Triumph made the sugar in his blood increase. At that moment, it the consequences of his actions didn't matter. "_I did it!" _He thought victoriously, panting through gritted teeth. "_I won."_

It tasted as sweet as honey.

That is, until he saw the face.

Himaruya grinned at him, mimicking the cocky look Turkey used to always wear. "Surprised?" It asked, unphased by the hands around his throat. Slowly, but surely, they peeled away and went dead at Turkey's sides. The only thing the man could manage was to stare. That face. . . that was impossible. "I can presume by your visage that you did not expect to see me."

There was a brief moment of silence as everything processed. "H-how can it be _you?" _He whispered, too stunned to think coherently. "H-how can it be . . . all this time, it was _you? _How?_"_

"Don't worry-" Himaruya affectionately cupped his cheeks. "-You'll have plenty of time to think it over."

"What do you mean?"

It brought its face closer to his. "This is your punishment for breaking the rules," it whispered, lifting itself closer. "You're going to be stuck here for the rest of the cycle." Its lips drew closer. "Just you and-"

"No!" Turkey shoved him back down, standing on his shaking legs. His calloused hands were trembling for the fear of what was coming. "I never agreed to this!" He shouted frantically.

Himaruya smirked. "You didn't have to," it replied coolly. "At this point, with you continually breaking your side of the deal, the contract can no longer be considered void unless you face the punishment for it. Unless-"It mockingly pouted. "-You want to risk good, little Poland-pooh getting hurt."

Turkey, for a moment, felt defeated. He could never let his boyfriend- wait a second. "How do I remember that?" he suddenly asked himself, placing a hand on his forehead. His fear seemed to increase tenfold. "Shouldn't I hate him?"

"Oh, France's hypnotism undid itself at the end of the cycle," it explained, observing its nails casually. "An unfortunate undoing to your ingenious plan." The brunette stared at the floor. His reflection, it seemed, looked back up at him, demanding that he did something to stop it. He had to do something- he knew that for sure- he just didn't know what.

Rising to its feet, Himaruya stuck its hands into its pockets. "Well, I believe that we are done here-"

"No. We're not." It paused and looked back at Turkey. Clenched fist seemed to shake with unspoken furry. The creator raised an eyebrow, intrigued to where this was going. In a low voice, he hissed, "I refused to leave that girl there alone."

It shrugged. "Well, you'll have too-"

"No I won't!" Turkey glared at him, the fire spreading into his honey orbs. "She's a normal girl in an abnormal situation. She's probably just as scared as I am! I refuse to leave her there!"

"So you are scared of me." He froze, sweat turning a frigid cold. Did he really just say that? Himaruya frowned at him, walking towards him steadily. Turkey should have resisted- his whole body was screaming to, but his arms felt dead. He wasn't being controlled; he was just being afraid. It placed a hand on his chest, saying, "The last thing in the world I want is for you to do that, okay?"

He was answered by silence.

Himaruya wrapped its arms around him, pressing himself close to his heart. "But luckily, we now have all the time in the world to remedy that."

Never before has Turkey felt so afraid and helpless.

If only he could leave this place through the open window that mocked his want for freedom.

* * *

**Cycle 12: Tuesday**

"_How the hell does Sadiq even walk with this damn thing?" _I thought as I tried to make my way to the student council room. But that was pretty hard to do when the damn watch was setting off your center of balance, causing you to crash into every student that came your way. "_Maybe since he's bigger, it doesn't affect him half as much. Yeah, I'll-" _And there I went, crashing into a random-ass student! Any guesses to whom it was?

"Seychelles, where have you been?" Germany demanded, placing his giant hands on my small shoulders. It was as if gravity decided to return to normal again and I could stand without falling over.

I would have smiled, but there was a solemn look on the blonde's face. That was strange- this was usually the part where he scolded me for acting so weird. So, why did he look so upset? Hesitantly, I asked, "Germany, is something wrong? What happened?"

He took a deep breath, gathering his words. "Seychelles, I need to talk to you." I gave him the right away look, thinking that this was just going to be the routine dance. Only it wasn't. "Seychelles, I think we should break up."

In my head, I was racing to figure out the reason why. What the hell did I do? Was he going to kill himself again? The whole school probably heard me when I exclaimed, "What? Why?"

"I just feel as though we're just too different for each other," he confessed, sounding a bit guilty. I studied his tone carefully. He didn't _sound _as though he was going to commit suicide, but I wasn't a therapist, what did I know? "Plus, I think I'm . . ."

I sighed and nudged him further. "You're what, Germany?"

"I think I'm gay." I wondered vaguely if America and Denmark were in the area because only those two could possibly make my brain explode the amount it did. It was so scrambled that I could only gape. Germany scratched the back of his nervously, saying, "And I think that I have a crush on France."

I ran.

Without a single thought, my legs sped down the hall, taking me away. I ignored Germany when he called out for me. My heart hammered against my chest. Panic was the source of my adrenalin. This . . . this was never happened before. In every single cycle, Germany has always been straight. So what changed? What did I do wrong?

The problem was, I did nothing wrong.

Sadiq was at fault.

"_He told me too much," _I realized, going up a wood staircase. My hip banged into the rail, but I ignored it as I turned a sharp corner. "_And now Himaruya is changing things." _My sweat turned cold. "_The game's changing."_

I hadn't even realized where I was until I saw the large door of the student council room before me. Why did I run here? I would have figured that I would have escaped to someplace a bit more remote, like the clock tower. My feet started to drift towards that direction when a thought occurred to me.

If Himaruya could change the game plan, why couldn't I?

I threw my courage to the sticking place and headed back to the door. Pushing it open, I stepped into the sea of books to see France and England trying to clean up. They had a moment to register that I was there before I said, "Hello, my name is Sherry Sue and I'm kind of possessing your daughter's body."

* * *

**MW: **Face it, none of you guys saw that coming! I deserve a medal for this one!

**SEK: **Wolf. . .

**MW: **Sorry. But seriously guys, for most of the story, I've been getting theory after theory on who the voice was. And only ONE person got Himaruya.

**BFTL: **Tis true. Here's a quick list of people choices: England, Gary Sue, Iceland (this was a popular one), France (this one too), Seychelles, Switzerland, and Bella Moon.

Good job peeps.

**MW: **Also** NekoPockyBoxz **pointed out something that isn't part of the satire, but I still feel is worth mentioning: she "found it Ironic the Seychelles now hates Sherry for being, 'Perfect'. You know, because that is why Sherry hated Seychelles at first."

And remember to review!

**Funfacts:**

"When You're Good to Mama" This is the official theme song of Himaruya. Go listen to the lyrics and see what I mean.

**Next Chapter: **The game changed, Sherry now has to deal with trying to get the kiss before the end of the Prom.

**REVIEWS ARE PRECIOUS!**


	12. Well Shit

**MW: **I blame SEK for the lateness of this chapter.

**SEK: **But it took you forever to write this!

**MW: **I had an anxiety attack! I was writing this chapter and I started freaking out over the end of this story.

**BFTL: **Guys. Stop it. The fault of the lateness is both of yours. Apoligize.

**Both: **Sorry.

**BFTL: **Thank you. Thank you all for reviewing!

**Chapter Summary: **As Sadiq is being, well, life sucking; Sherry is off on completing her quest. But will things change?

**Warnings: **Everything as before. I'm in a hurry to post this guys . . .

**Disclaimer: **See above.

* * *

**~Chapter 12~**

**Well Shit **

"_Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation." _

― **Oscar Wilde, ** **Irish Writer and Poet**

* * *

**Cycle 12: Tuesday**

You know, it really wasn't until this moment that I realized that both France and England have _very _intense eye colors. Maybe it was because they were staring at me with condescending looks, as if to say "you really don't mean that." The emerald and sky blue orbs bore through my skin, making me itch and squirm. I fidgeted, resisting the urge to pick at my nails. Instead, I rubbed my hands together.

That only made me conscious of how dry my palms felt. When was the last time I bothered putting on some lotion? Don't I walk around with a bottle of the precious shea butter formula anyways? What was shea butter?

Still, I had to maintain a completely serious look as they continued to stare at me. The silence between us was more deafening than a Michael Bay movie in Imax. I knew that I needed to say something- anything -to support my out-of-the-blue announcement, but nothing came to mind. I just stood there are waited for one of them to speak their mind.

When England did, it was what anyone could expect. "What?"

Taking a slow, calming breath, I rephrased it. "My name is Sherry Agatha Sue," I said steadily. "I'm kind of stuck in Seychelles's body."

Again, they stared. Sighing, I bounced on my heels and waited for them to get over their shock. I could hear the watch in my pocket, ticking away the scarce time we had left. Moments like these made me wish that this was like a bad fanfiction where the male can announce that he's pregnant and everyone could go with it. France cleared his throat and gracefully rose from his seat. "Seychelles, did something happen?" he asked. His heels clicked on the wood floors as he approached me. "Are you feeling alright?"

I scowled when he placed a hand on my forehead. "I'm feeling perfectly fine," I snapped, shoving it away. I sounded harsher than I originally intended.

Once again, the 'FrUk' started another long round of staring. I rolled my eyes, demanding, "How much longer are you two going to keep doing that?"

England rose from his seat and joined his lover at his side. He said, "I don't think you understand something, Seychelles: I know magic. I would be able to sense if there was someone possessing you."

"My little bunny is right." The Frenchman looked over me with worried eyes. He sounded as concerned as a therapist when he asked, "Seychelles, is there anything that you want to tell me? Is there something wrong between you and Germany?"

"Yeah, there is something wrong!" I marched right past them and flopped onto one of the chairs circling the discussion table. At this point, I didn't even care that I was marching over every book but besides the _Twilight Series, _but I could care less. My hot head was full of air as I rambled, "Not only do you two _not _believe me, but Sadiq's freaking soul is on the line-"

France asked, "Who's Sadiq?"

"-and the only thing you two seem concern about is the fact that it doesn't make any sense!"

The Brit smacked his forehead. He irritably groaned, "Well of course we aren't going to believe you if it doesn't make any sense. There is no logic behind your claim of being possessed!"

"You guys are freaking countries!" I all but shrieked. "And you're telling me that _I'm _the one not making sense?"

"That is enough!" Francey-pants shoved his boyfriend aside. The protective father-ly glint in his eyes returned, making the blue shade appear rather threateningly. I gaped at him as he placed two strong hands on my shoulders. Admiration made me stare, unsure of how to react. "I understand perfectly what's going on," he said calmly. I wanted to break into a victory dance. Hell yeah, someone believed me! "You're feeling neglected."

All the respect I felt for him committed kamikaze. "No!" Struggling free, I jumped to my red hot feet. France psychically recoiled, as if I slapped him across the jaw. "I'm telling you the truth! I'm not Seychelles, I'm-"

"Can you prove it?" I stared at the speaker and gave a small 'huh?' England had his arms crossed over his chest and his thick eyebrows cocked. The daring glint in his eyes matched his smirk. "You heard me, Seychelles- can you prove it?"

My brain scrambled for the proof. I could try giving them the pocket watch, but would that even mean anything to them? Sadiq looks as though he's only asleep and I highly doubt Flying Mint Bunny could read dreams. How can I significantly prove that I wasn't the nation?"

"Germany." The two blonds raised their eyebrows as I explained, "Germany dumped me because he loves you, France." Said man choked. I guess being with a man for a few centuries makes one forget how sexually attractive they are. I ignored him and continued, "You can ask him yourself. Everything here is going out of whack because of me."

They exchanged glances. "So this is about Germany?" they chorused.

I smacked my forehead. Seriously, why the hell couldn't they just accept my God damn explanation and except it. Or better yet, they already figured it out themselves and were prepared to do whatever it took to help me.

Why couldn't real life be a Mary-Sue fic?

Cutting between them, I trampled the books one last time (I think I killed _Mockingjay. _Oh well, that book ended terribly anyways). As I marched out the door, I heard France start an objection. I just cut him off, saying, "Call me when you two are ready to listen."

I ran before they could stop me. I didn't even know why- I just knew that the sick feeling in my gut would go away with the sudden jolt of endorphins. That ended with nothing less than a disaster.

My heart and feet pounded to the same beat, strengthening my one looming thought: "_I screwed that one up badly." _ I didn't even know where my feet were taking me until I was pushing through the doors of the nurse's office. The name tumbled out before I could stop it. "Sadiq!"

I stopped. In the middle of the clean patient bed was his rigid body, still asleep. The fluorescent lights made the sweat that dripped down the side of his head glimmer. A tight grimace was on his face. I would have thought him awake if it wasn't for his tightly sealed eyes. The slight mumble under his shallow breath made me sink deeper into my hole. What was Himaruya telling him? Was he suffering? Watching what I was doing, knowing quite well that I was failing badly? Knowing that the only thing the only thing I wanted to do was just sit by his side and wait for him to return?

I admit, I acted like a child before. Instead of listening to Sadiq when I should have, I went off and tried to do my own thing. Even when he was there to make sure that I didn't accidentally kill someone, I never thanked him. But now I didn't have my Turkish partner to kick my ass and demand that I act more maturely. He wasn't there to scowl at my idiocy or hang me out of windows.

To think that the moment where I desperately needed him, I was all alone with little hope of rescue. I was Ariel without her Prince Eric.

I was completely by myself.

At first, I thought that the fire sprinklers went off since something was blurring my vision. Then it occurred to me that Nurse Pangaea was still reading her eye candy casually, so the infirmary was not on fire. So what was it?

I was succumbing to tears. "_No, don't cry now!" _ I demanded, fiercely wiping my eyes. I stole one last glance at my friend before painfully forcing my feet out and down the hall. My heart banged loudly in my breast and my ears rang. "_This is just like Ari," I_ thought, wiping the tears from my eyes. "_Expect this time I don't have _Titanic _and ice cream and-"_

I stopped myself before I could break more. Trying to be the mature one, I tried to think this through logically. "_It would be Mary Sue-ish if France and England believed me right away." _I leaned against a random classroom door and sunk to the floor. "_After all, would I believe Jerry if he told me that he was being possessed?" _I wiped the last of my tears away and smiled bitterly. "_Yeah, I guess that's right."_

For a minute, I did nothing but quell my tears. When they were gone, I became oddly aware of the weight in my pocket. Carefully, I pulled it out and held it high in the air by its chain. The lights made the slick surface gleam, whiting out my reflection.

This was Sadiq's shackle. Even though it was with me, the chain was somehow still connected to him. I could imagine it on a different plane of existence, traveling from my grasp, to his wrist and all the way to Himaruya.

Sadiq and I- we were still connected with a single thread.

Small, but strong.

* * *

**Cycle 12: Unknown Place**

"Sadiq?" Turkey mumbled and brushed away whatever was trying to talk to him. He was so tired . . . just five more minutes of sleep and he would be up bright and dandy. No sooner had he refound his comfortable spot did the person start shaking him. "Get up!" The person- a man -demanded. "It's already noon!"

Sadiq rolled over again and pushed them away. "Five more minutes, jackass," he mumbled, snuggling closer to the sand- wait a second. Why was there sand? Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open to a deep blue sky hand above him with vivid white clouds that drifted slowly across it. The breeze brought the sweet scent of the ocean to him.

He groaned and sat up. He was on a beach, barely a few feet from the dying sea foam. "What's going on?" he asked, looking around the tropic paradise. "How did I . . ."

"It's our anniversary, stupid." Turkey jerked away, noticing that the man was right at his side. His eyes were wide as he recognized the scowling face of his old boyfriend. "We're on vacation."

"Switzy?" he asked, a sick, guilty feeling forming in the root of his gut. "What are you-"

"Why are you calling me that?" The blond asked, green eyes glaring at him irritably. "I thought that we were still using our pet names."

Turkey blinked. He was? Didn't the Swiss hate his guts? Didn't Himaruya make sure that there would be no chance of him having a relationship outside of, well, _it. _Unless . . . "I'm sorry, Vash," he said, carefully choosing his words. When he wasn't strangled or told to stop being such a creep, he took it as a good sign. Switzerland still loved him. But how?

"_One question at a time," he_ told himself, running his fingers through the warm sand. Observing the beige grains, he asked, "What is going on?"

The blond sighed. "This is our anniversary trip," he reminded him, as if it was as plain as Greek yogurt. "We got our bosses to let us spend a week at the beach. Remember?"

"Um, yeah . . ." Turkey looked around uncertainly. Why did he have no memory of that? Surely he would remember talking to his boss about something like that? Or that he made up with Switzy. That would be a landmark in his history. Then there was Poland. What happened to him? Should he be back at the school, making sure that Sherry was safe. If anything happened . . .

Switzerland, wearing a loose shirt and brown slacks, leaned into him, running his fingers through his short hair. "What's wrong?" he asked, carefully petting him like a dog. "You seem . . . off." The cheese smelling hand brushed over his curl.

Turkey bit his lip, suppressing a moan. Shit, why did he have to touch _that? _He remembered a time when his curl didn't do that to him. But after pissing off England one time, he was cursed to having that as his sensitive spot. "V-Vash . . ." He groaned, leaning closer to the warmth. "You know what happens when-"

"Of course I do," the other deadpanned, tilting his head closer to his. He brushed a white finger over his stubble cheek, smirking slightly. "You told me yourself, remember?"

He gave him a stressed look. "I guess . . ."

Switzerland kissed him, driving his tongue deep into the other's mouth. The feeling was euphoric. Every person kissed a certain way, Turkey found. Poland kissed rather shyly. It was great for those intimate moments, but it lacked the fire that Switzerland could ignite. They were always hot and fierce. As much as Poland's were a treat, Turkey did miss it.

Poland . . .

Turkey hesitated before pausing completely. Switzerland raised an eyebrow and pulled away, asking, "What happened to Poland?" Green eyes stared at him blankly. There wasn't a single glint to symbolize how or if the relationship even ended. No, it was just . . . neutral. Like his World War II status.

"Why?" Switzerland asked, a pained look in his eyes. "Did I do something wrong, Sadiq?"

The brunette looked away, giving a slight shrug. "No you didn't. I just . . ." Words seemed to fail him. "Never mind," he said quickly. "It's just-"

"Do you want him here instead of me?"

He started to shake head when another voice rang out. "Pops!" He turned behind him to see Iceland walking along the shoreline. He was also in casual clothes, looking happier than ever. Sadiq noticed that in one hand he held his sneakers and in the other, the hand of a young ginger girl. Turkey focused on her, making out the teenage version of Kate Winslet. She looked just like her, except . . .

"Sherry?" The nation whispered, feeling a sudden heart ache. There was no one else he knew to have that childishly gleaming eyes, even if they were eyeing Iceland with undeniable love. That definitely wasn't right- she may still love him, but the Kid shouldn't be returning the visage. He's her _friend, _not lover (he had to be). And he just wanted her to be happy. She had to be- that girl was the happiest when she was with the Icelandic.

"_My image of her is Kate Winslet," _he realized, taking a fist full of sand. When Sherry told him that she was a ginger, he automatically thought of the actress. He knew that they most definitely did not look similar, but he couldn't change that image. Maybe because he was watching the _Titanic._ A sudden flash of relief flushed through him. That could only mean . . .

"This isn't real," Turkey said, turning back to Switzerland. "All of this isn't . . ." He trailed off. His ex-boyfriend was replaced with his current one: Poland. The blond was smiling broadly, giving that ever cute tilt of the head.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, leaning closer into his arm. The Turk tensed with fear and leaned away. He knew quite well who was making all of this. Poland giggled and walked his fingers up his chest, saying, "You're, like, so scattered brain right now."

It took all of Turkey's willpower to push him away. "Get away from me!" He all but yelled. "You're not real!"

"Of course this isn't," Himaruya suddenly appeared a few feet away, leaning against a palm tree. A light smirk was on its lips as he looked at the owner of the soul he wanted. Turkey gaped at it as it nonchalantly buried its hands in its pockets. "But with one word, it could be."

No long paying Poland any more heed, he scrambled to his feet. "I don't want this," he growled, trying his best to ignore the disagreeing voice inside. Part of him _did_ want this- a world where he could live comfortably with either Switzerland or Vash. The Kid and that girl would be a happy couple and all would be well. But another part rejected the idea. He did not want Poland and Switzerland here. He did not want Iceland and Sherry to be a couple. What he did want . . .

And besides, he knew better, he absolutely could not give in to this _thing's _will.

Unsurprisingly, Himaruya laughed. It seemed to rise above the sound of the gentle breeze and crashing waves. Turkey had even forgotten he was on a beach until the seafoam hugged his ankles. "You don't want this?" it repeated, chuckling cruelly. "That is one of the best lies you told me yet."

Turkey felt someone hug his arm and look down. Poland was back in the picture, smiling slyly as he asked, "You're saying that you, like, don't want me?"

Words failed him. _"This isn't Poland,"_ he told himself. _"This is a fake." _Yet, he could not shake the guilt that cling to himself. Before he could push the surrogate away, another force was on his other arm.

"What about me?" Switzerland asked, placing his head on the Turk's shoulder. Both of the blonds seemed to be restraining his limbs when he asked, "I thought that you loved me, Sadiq."

"I did," Turkey whispered, unable to look away. Their voices were like that of a mermaid's- luring him into the depth of the ocean to drown him. But he was on land and the only thing he could drown in was himself. "I loved both of you very much," he said, feeling his walls break. "But I can't have this."

"Can you have me?" Turkey blinked and Poland and Switzerland were gone. He was free to run away. Or, he would be if his image of Sherry wasn't before him. She smiled kindly at him, a hand cupping his right cheek. The naive look in her eyes made him freeze up all over again. To use a child- _his light _-against him . . .

When he didn't reply, Fake-Sherry continued, saying, "Because I really love you, Sadiq. Even with everything bad you do to me, I still really love you."

He shook his head. "No you can't," he whispered, his remaining defenses crumble into dust. Dust that was quickly swept away with the wind and into the air. Dust that was not saved by the tears that pricked his eyes. "You can't love me, if you did, he would only hurt you- I would hurt you."

The world was dead silent.

"That is correct." Fake-Sherry's eyes went wide and her mouth followed suit. There was a moment where Turkey vaguely wondered what was happening before she stumbled forward, into his chest. Standing behind her was Himaruya, wielding a small bloodied knife.

Turkey compulsively caught her and saw the hole in her back. The nearly black liquid stained her clothes as the warmth started to leave her body. His world seemed to shatter. Every signal in the nation's body screamed that this was all fake, that this was _not happening._

But, as he told himself later, the side that was a sucker for dramatic romances was breaking into tears.

"Don't . . ." He whispered, feeling a small sob leave his throat. Just seeing the life leave those naive eyes made his heart break. The innocent human whom he got mixed up in all of this was dead because of him. How could he allow something like this to happen?

Hell, she considered him her _father- _he should have done a better job. Especially since what he truly wanted- desired -could never happen. She would never look at him the way he wanted her to; no matter how many times he tried.

"Sadiq, I tried my best with you," Himaruya somberly said, looming over him ominously. "I just want you to understand that if you went with me, you can have everything you ever wanted." Silence was the response. "Nothing will ever have to end up this way. You and I can live happily together for the rest of our lives."

It bent down to him, the fake's body disappearing as he went. Tilting his chin towards its face, it leaned in, telling the Turk, "All you have to say is that you love me. Do that and Poland _and_ Switzerland will be your forever. Don't and this will be her fate."

Turkey hesitated. He should say it, say it and secure everything he could even allowed himself to hope for. "Himaruya, I-" But wouldn't that be giving up without a fight? "-hate you with every ounce of my being." It raised an eyebrow as the Turk slapped its hand away and glared darkly. "I refuse to let you win." He stood, saying, "I refuse to-"

"Enough." The beach disappeared and the two were back in the Room. The glaring white walls confined them to a strange, mad world. The white starched clothes were suddenly back on Turkey, making him feel stiff and awkward. Himaruya glared down at him, lips pressed together in displeasure. It said, "I ask so little of you, yet you refuse to relent."

"You expect me to sell my soul to some jackass who continues to harass me," Turkey snapped. "What else do you expect me to do?"

"Think about others around you." In a circle, Himaruya paced around him like a vulture to its prey. "If you opened your eyes sooner, you would have realized that I was there, that I love you more than Poland or Switzerland or any other of my creations ever could."

"Like hell I would believe-!"

He was silenced by cold lips. Turkey's brain shut down as the creator pressed his head closer to its. A few seconds took a few decades to past, but when it did; he was more than grateful for the break. Panting, Turkey gazed at him with fear.

No desire, no love, just fear.

Himaruya pressed his lips together bitterly. "You little slut," he whispered. Sadiq felt his whole body freeze up and his world shatter. In his head, he could see the pieces like glass falling down, down, down before could feel it: Himaruya's invasion of his head. It hadn't read his thoughts- it had read his darkest secret. It knew about _that. _Shit, it knew everything. "You bisexual little slut. I should have guessed you-"

"Don't treat bisexuality like a shame," Sadiq growled, clenching his fist. "You made us- you know that we can swing either way if we wanted."

"Is that not the key word?" It asked. "'Wanted?' Barely anyone in this school has wanted to change sides and everyone has been so content with their homosexual ways that they've forgotten that they even can." It chuckled. "My, my Sadiq. You must want _that _badly to take the risk." It drew away. Before a second passed, its physical form disappeared and it returned to being a voice in the air. "But in the end, the fault is still yours. For now, because of you, that girl is going to pay."

Stunned, Turkey sat there for a moment, processing what the hell just happened.

The jackass knew everything and was knowing going to hurt Sherry because of it.

The only way to vent his anger- his guilt -was to throw the white chair at the wall.

* * *

**Cycle 12: Wednesday**

My prey laid a few desk away from me. Like Steve Irwin to his dangerous Australian animals, I eyed them carefully before deciding to be stupid and provoke them. I could literally imagine what he would say in a situation like this: "Crickey! There we have a wild France and England in their natural habitat. Be careful, one wrong move and they'll bite me with a lethal dose of deadly poison. I'm going to touch it."

And that kids, is how he died.

But anyways, the two blonds did their best not to look at me as I threw paper wad after paper wad at their heads from a few desks away. Every other one actually hit the mark- the others ricocheted off into Estonia's head. Luckily, the bland kid didn't complain and allowed me to continue my constant pestering.

I've kind of been taking every single chance I get to annoy these two in a vain attempt for them to realize that I was not Seychelles. Luckily, said nation has yet to get her hooker self into gear. Unfortunately, I was still considered crazy by two countries (see what I did there? You know, like I went to a mental institute or something?) (Shut up, it was funny). "_There has to be a way for me to convince them," _I thought, ripping one of my failed doodles in half. It was supposed to be of Poland and Sadiq on the Titanic, doing that iconic "I can fly" scene. I couldn't even draw the clouds right.

As Language Arts Teacher Pangaea asked Prussia to stand and read his poem to the class, I thought more about the situation at hand. Ever since Germany declared himself to be a normal homosexual, the whole school social order was out of whack. People were feeling guilty for making fun of him when he was just going through a 'stage' and readily welcomed him into their cliques. The rest of us straighties, however, were still oppressed.

Sadly, Prussia was at a stalemate of continuing to hang out with his brother or to hang out with the rest Liechtenstein and I. After all, it was either his friends or guarantee that his dorm would no longer be trashed. He couldn't decide.

That was probably why his poem was full of despair mixed with the vivid declaration of awesome.

I don't think I've ever talked about this class before so I'll just give a quick description: this is language arts and for the past cycles all we've been doing is writing poems and reading them aloud to the class. It's the only class I share with France and England but most of the time they ignore me so it never has been important.

Until now.

I loudly tore another paper and crumpled it into another tight ball. Every nation in the area turned and gave me annoyed looks. I smirked and rolled my shoulders. Bitches can deal with it. I was about to throw it when a hand caught mine. "Whatcha doing?" America asked, turning my hand to every odd angle. He was observing it as carefully as a scientist to a puzzling anomaly. It kind of fit, considering the hot glasses on his nose.

"What does it look like?" I hissed, giving Language Arts Teacher Pangaea wary glances. She was so engrossed in Prussia's heart wrenching poem that she barely noticed our ruckus. That was kind of awesome.

"It looks as though you're being an ass," Denmark added, magically appearing at my other side. What were they even doing here? Neither of them sat remotely close to me.

I glared at them and yanked my hand free. "That, I am. I'm trying to get those two idiots to realize something."

America leaned back, stretching his arms high above his head. "Like what?" he asked, yawning largely. "You're not actually Seychelles?" I choked and stared at him. How did he . . .

"And you also have to get someone to kiss you in order to break the spell?" Denmark added as he ran a hand through his gravity defying hair. My amazement faltered for a second when I saw the hair gel clumping between his fingers. Gross.

I gaped at the blonds, trying to figure out how they knew. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that I now had two possible allies to help me win this. They could be my new rock. Slowly I started to say, "How did you two-"

Then "Haha, dude! That's hilarious!" happened. The lovers gave a loud high five before breaking out into a louder fit of laughter. Every single hope I had crumpled into despair. "That's the best joke ever," the younger nation declared, clutching the stitch in his side. The other was giving a playful bow, muttering 'thank you's in Danish. "How did you come up with that?"

I opened my mouth, ready to tell them that it was true when Denmark answered, "It was the dumbest thing I could think of. I bet Disney would do something a lot like that."

"I think they already did. It's called _The Little Mermaid."_

"Have I ever told you how much I hate that movie?" The nordic asked, absently scribbling on my notebook. His lines decapitated my doodle of Sadiq. "It's so different from what Hans originally wrote. The mermaid _died _at the end_, _did you know that?"

America dramatically slapped two hands over his ears, whining, "Dude! You just ruined my childhood!"

"America, you weren't even a child back when the movie came out."

"I was a child at heart!"

I groaned and banged my head on the table. "_I'm surrounded by idiots," I_ thought, suddenly understanding how Scar felt with the hyenas. And to think that he was my favorite Disney villain- that is, if Ursula wasn't an option. For a moment, I listen to the two argue about which version of the tale was better. Their blue eyes were gleaming in frustration with each second a resolution was delayed. "_This is going to go on forever- they're both too stubborn to let the other win." _ But with my growing headache, I didn't think that was going to happened any time soon.

Someone had to end it and that someone was going to be me. Placing a solemn mask over my face, I turned to my home country and stared at him. He shouted a few more words before noticing what I was doing. "Hey Seychelles, why are you-"

"Canada"

The next thing anyone knew, he was on the table, grandly proclaiming, "CANADA IS JUST A THEORY!" Obviously, that was enough to draw Language Arts Teacher Pangaea's attention. For the rest of the class, everyone watched as she berated the nation for hurting Canada's feelings and disrupting the class. Like what happened every Monday in history, he in turn argued his position freely, gracefully accepting the detention when it was dealt.

God eventually got tired of this bullshit and told his angels to ring the end of class bell. The glorious chime met our gracious ears and everyone jumped to their feet and hurried out the door. School was over for the day and, in theory, I was supposed to help the student council.

For once, that was exactly what I was going to do.

Pushing through the masses, I tried to keep up with the blond's retreating backs. Elbows jammed their way into my sides, making sure I had bruises to remember this day by. But even with all of my efforts, France and England only seemed to be getting farther and farther away. "_Come on, assholes. Just let me closer . . ."_

"Seychelles!" My feet stopped dead when Liechtenstein placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. The students cursed at our hindrance, but nonetheless walked around us. We looked like to sailors stranded on an island in the middle of people.

Sighing, I readjusted my bag and turned to her. Her cute face was drawn in a careful concern. Blue eyes seemed to warily observe every aspect of my being. I nervously grinned, asking, "Hey Liechtenstein. What's up?"

Her gaze continued for a moment longer before she cautiously spoke. "Seychelles, are you feeling okay? You've seemed . . . off lately."

Sweat fell down the back of my neck. Thing were different this time- this time, she was noticing the personality differences. "Whatever do you mean?" I asked, scratching the wet area. "I've been perfectly fine."

"Bull."

I physically recoiled. Ouch, where the hell did that one come from? Maybe it was the side that was raised by Switzerland; she did have that skeptic glare he always seems to wear. Give the girl a gun and I would pee my pants. Chewing on my lip, I quickly remembered what France and England had suggested earlier. "It's Germany," I said quietly. "He's just been . . .um, you know-"

She replaced her hand on my shoulder, this time with a comforting vibe. "I know, Seychelles. Losing someone you love can be-"

My helpful side called out for me to do something about _her _love life. With the reflexes of a panther, I peeled her hand away, just to hold it between my own. Add a background of flamboyant roses and a handful of bishie sparkles and the mood was perfect. Her small mouth opened when she tried to question me, but I cut her off. "Break up with Prussia."

Thin eyebrows knitted with confusion. "What? Why would I . . ."

"Because you're not happy." It was one of those moments when the busy hallways seemed dead deserted. She and I were in a little world composing only of us. Us and the sparkles and roses. I mentally added. "Prussia's outgoing and you're not," I earnestly told her. "If you're not happy, then you need to get out."

Liechtenstein gaped. "Seychelles. . ."

"And I know that you have a crush on England, but we both know that he isn't going to leave France any time soon."

"How do you know all of this?" She asked, eyes wide with wonder and shock.

I shrugged. "I'm observant- but that's not all I wanted to say." I leaned in and softly whispered, "Italy is in the closet and is trying to deny the fact that he likes you. Go ask him to the prom." I turned her in a 180 and pushed her down the hall. She peeked her head through the thinning crowd and voice a small objection. "Trust me, Liech!" I called back, merrily waving goodbye. "When have I ever been wrong?"

She gave me an unamused look before leaving me. I smiled at her retreating back. Hopefully, she'll listen to me.

Maybe then this whole ordeal wouldn't have been for nothing.

Swinging my bag over my shoulder, I turned on my heels and started strutting down the wood floored corridors. Now was the hard part- dealing with the 'FrUk'. Hopefully my annoying attitude would help sway their opinion. Tomorrow was the prom and I knew that if I didn't get it now, I might lose my chance forever.

The student council room was on a rather unpopular side of campus. Each step dwindled the crowd down to no one but me. Hehe, I was an one-man army. By the time my foot was taking their last step down the stairs, I was my only company. "_Maybe I should have them ask me questions only Seychelles would know," _I schemed. A scowl etched itself onto my visage. "_But one of them would point out that I was lying about not knowing the answer."_

I felt the need to violently bang my head on the wall. "_There has to be a way for me to prove it! I know it's there, I'm just-"_

"What is it do you want to talk to me about?_" _I stopped dead in my tracks. That sounded like France. What was he doing out of the room? Glancing down at the floor, I noticed two shadows slowly approaching the corner a few yards from me. I couldn't see who exactly the other owner was, but I could tell that they were big. Drawing closer, I heard France ask, "You said that it was important, Germany."

Well shit.

Looking back, I question what force drove me to dive for the nearest open door. Was it fear, embarrassment, stupidity? Either way, I chose the nearest door, pried it open, and jumped inside. It was an empty closet with just enough leg space for me to sit with stretched legs. Still, I pressed my ear to the door and tried to listen in on the conversation.

"You don't have to be shy about it," France coaxed congenially. I could imagine the comforting, inviting smile on his lips. "Spit it out."

"Yeah, there is something I wanted to mention," Germany muttered, sounding awkward. Their steps, to my luck, stopped right in front of my door. I pressed myself closer, realizing what was going on. This was a . . . "I like you France. A lot. And I was wondering if you and I could . . ."

There was a moment of silence.

The frantic pounding of my heart mimicked what France's must be doing- wide-eyed, frowning as he tried to think of a response. My mind was racing. What if he said yes? What if it's part of Himaruya's big plan? What was his big plan? I placed my forehead on the door and released a defeated breath. It that was the case, then it was over.

"I'm sorry." I perked up, not believing my ears when I heard it. By the shocked intake of breath, I could tell that the German didn't either. "I'm sorry Germany, but I love England," France said steadily, a small grin in his tone. My mouth formed an 'o'. The 'FrUk' was still happening? "And sadly, true love can never be changed by anything." My ear was back on the wood, trying to get every last drop. But his speech was done and the other blond was running away in embarrassment. "Wait! Germany, come back here!" Confusion riddled me until I heard him add, "Please don't get all suicidal again!"

"_I can't believe I didn't think of that," I_ thought, feeling a blast of cool relief. Well at least if Sadiq and I failed the world would be in a slightly good order. But that didn't mean that I could give up now, I had to try. Determined, I stood and placed a hand on the knob. The good feeling I acquired disappeared when the handle wouldn't turn. Frowning, I tried again, just to hear the ever hated click.

Freaking shit, the door was locked!

I kicked at the door, calling for help. Crap, did every closet in this school only open from the outside? I kicked, punched, and brutally assaulted the door until my knuckles were blue. It was a little over an hour since Germany and France left and I was forced to give up. banging my head on the unforgiving wood, I slid to my feet.

This wasn't fair. What did I- nonetheless Sadiq -do to deserve such bullshit? Couldn't the world be nice for once? Sniffling, I wiped the water from my eyes. "_Sadiq needs me to be strong," _I told myself, checking my bag for anything that could help. I found Seychelles's phone, but the battery was dead. Cursing, I stuffed it back inside. Did I have anything that could possibly help? "_What about . . ."_

Scooting onto my side, I reached into my skirt pocket and pulled out the pocket watch. I felt as though the weight of the world was in the palm of my hand. How could Sadiq carry around such an important relic without me noticing before?

Every instance where he brought it out came to me. It always seemed as though he was giving this thing stressed, sorrowful glances. That is, except when he was being hypnotized-

"_That's it!" _A broad smile stretched across my face. "_I could have France hypnotize me into telling the truth and when I do, both he and England would be forced to accept that I'm not Seychelles!" _Happiness bubbled in my stomach as I squealed excitedly.

Then reality had to return. But in order to do that, I had to get out of here.

"This isn't fair!" I yelled, banging my head against the door. I was either hoping for the barrier to fly off its edges or create a cranial dent big enough to kill me. "Can't you least give me a chance?" I sobbed, freely crying thick rainstorms of tears. "I don't want Sadiq to die!"

"Sherry?" I paused, hearing the louding clicking on the unlocking door. I had a second to wonder who was there before the door swung open. I winced at the sudden brightness.

Standing there, framed by the bright fluorescent lights was Ari. The softest of smiles played on his lips as he looked down with concern. "Sherry, are you alright? What are you doing in here?" He asked, extending me a hand. My brain no longer received any signals as he waited for my reply. Mindlessly, I took it and the nordic lifted me to my feet. I continued to stare at him until he finally coughed.

Oh yeah, his question.

"I was locked inside," I said. My voice barely rose above a whisper. "I was . . . did you just call me Sherry?"

He nodded. "Yeah I did." When I didn't immediately brighten up, he added, "Why? Is something wrong?"

I must be getting smarter since I was actually thinking things through before voicing them. "This is a different cycle," I told him, not sure whether I should be happy or afraid. "You shouldn't be able to remember what happened."

Ari's comforting arms found their way around my frame. He hugged me tightly, pressing his face into my hair. The feeling of his skin should have quelled all of my worries. His very name should have made my heart pound against my rib cage.

But I only felt lonelier.

Chills ran up my spin as I shivered at his touch. He was so cold. Why was Ari so cold? Why did he remember everything so suddenly? What was going on? I sighed. I wanted Sadiq's warm arms around me, not his. "Ari, I-"

His lips were suddenly on mine. I gasped, accidently allowing him entrance into my mouth. I clenched his blazer as I tried to figure out why I no longer felt any fire. I could so clearly remember how my blood was hot with desire the last time he held me. But somehow, it now only felt dead and limp. Cold like a corpse. There was definitely something wrong here.

At last, his tongue was out of my mouth and I had a moment to breathe. Panting, I gave him a confused look. I asked, "Ari, what's going on- ah!" His lips were back on me, but not on the lips. No, his mouth was kissing and sucking on my neck.

I clenched my fist tighter, goose bumps traveling down my arms. It felt wrong, so wrong. It was the coldness, the coldness that seemed to infect me as well. Infect me with fear. I started struggling under his hold. "Ari!" I screamed, pounding my fists on his chest. "Let go of-"

He stepped back and slammed me into the wall. At first, I thought that it was one of those lustful sex thingies I always read about, but I quickly noticed his hands around my wrists as he pinned my arms to the wall. A nefarious vibe gathered around him as he looked at me coldly. The fear I felt tripled. His smirk seemed equally evil, but also mockful.

"What's wrong Sherry?" he asked, bring his face closer to mine. I pushed myself closer to the wall in a vain attempt to escape him. But his nose eventually touched mine and he added, "I thought you loved me." Like a fish, I dumbly opened and closed my mouth a few times. I was still trying to figure out _how _this sudden personality change happened. He leaned in more. "What's wrong Sherry?" His lips hovered above mine. "Cat caught your tongue?"

It finally clicked.

"Get away from me!" I started a new attempt at fighting back. My wrists ached from the pressure, but it was quickly forgotten. He was Himaruya. All along Ari was. . . In a panicked voice, I screamed out to the empty halls, "Help! Someone help me!"

"Quiet!" Apparently, the most effective way of doing that was to smash his lips back against mine. This time, I fought back. I bit down hard on his lip, breaking delicate skin. The warm metallic liquid flooded into my mouth before Ari released one of my wrist in order to freaking bitch slap me. My face stung, making me stupid and not take advantage of my new freedom. Instead, I just stood there clutching my face at the sharp stinging.

The silver haired man spat a large mouth full of blood onto the floor before savagely wiping his mouth in his sleeve. "You bitch," he snarled, quickly grabbing my wrist again. Anger welled in his eyes as he clicked his tongue irritably. "I'm going to make sure you pay for that."

My first thought: rape.

"Get the hell away from me!"

_Thud!_

The next thing I knew, my wrists were free and Ari was falling to the ground at my feet. I stared as his face laid in the blood puddle he made. I hadn't even realize that someone else was there until I noticed a new pair of feet standing besides him. I looked up, eagerly expecting Sadiq to be my savior. That was far from the truth.

"Estonia?" I whispered, amazed at the blond who stood before me. He held a bulky laptop in his hands as he stared down at the nation he just assaulted. By the stunned look in his violet eyes, I would say that also didn't expect himself to use his precious technology as a weapon.

Panting, he stood with shaking arms until his gaze drifted to me. Steadily, he calmed, slowly placing his laptop into the wooden floor. He asked, "S-Seychelles, are you alright? What happened? Oh, um-" He awkwardly extended a hand towards me. "Here, let me help you up."

"_Sherry!" _To him, it must have seemed as though I was just blankly staring at it. But to me, I was experiencing the sick numbness of Hooker-Sherry. My arms stayed dead at my sides, but there were stiff with fear. No matter how much I tried, I could not move them. I waited a few seconds for Seychelles to do something, but she just stared at Estonia.

"_Seychelles, what are you doing?" _I asked, still trying to push her out of my head. Something told me that this was a delayed reaction to what Ari- Himaruya -had been doing. "_It's fine now, Ari isn't going to hurt us."_

The Baltic state continued to stare at us. "Seychelles?"

"_That's not it!" _I wanted to wince. Crap, why was she so loud? "_That's-"_

He knelt to my height and placed a hand over my forehead. The second I felt his cool hand, her grasp on me disappeared and her voice faded away. "Are you alright?" he asked, voice laced with concern. "Did Iceland hurt you?"

Experimentally, I commanded my finger to move. It did so perfectly. Okay, that was weird. What was up with Seychelles's reaction? Why was she panicking now? I brushed it aside and shook my head. "No, I'm fine. Can you help me up?" He rose back to his feet, grabbed my hands, and pulled me onto mine. I muttered a small thank you before returning back to Seychelles.

Why was she so scared? What did Estonia do that Himaruya didn't? "_What's going to happen now?" _I wondered nervously, feeling the heavy watch in my pocket. "_He just took down Himaruya- does that mean that Sadiq's free?" _I smiled at the thought. An image drifted into my head. Sadiq and I, just going through classes like two normal humans. No worrying about kisses or contracts. Just him and I.

"I'm so glad I was walking nearby," the blond rambled, unaware that I was barely paying him any heed. "I just heard your screams and when I saw Iceland I knew that I had to help you." He looked down at the unconscious man and swore. "Oh man, we have to report this to Principle Pangaea."

I snapped back to reality and curtly nodded. "Uh yeah, we probably should," I said awkwardly. I was about to leave it like that, but those oddly violet irises were still looking at me with anticipation. I hastily added, "Thanks for helping me, by the way."

He grinned happily, a small blush coloring his cheeks. "It's no problem, really," he said as he took my hand. The man started leading me down the hallway, intending to tell someone what happened. "It was just lucky that I was there."

I forced a laugh. "Yeah, there_." _Wait a second. . . .

I stopped dead.

Estonia paused and turned to me. His eyebrow was raised high when he asked, "Hey, is something wrong?" But my mind was far too occupied to answer him.

"There . . ." I muttered, my head buzzing with the memories of these past cycles. My classes, the prom, the bar- every moment seemed to be falling into their places like the pieces of a puzzle. "You've always been there . . . every time . . . even when Sadiq . . . and every fan knows . . ."

"Seychelles?" He cocked his head and made to replace the hand on my forehead. "Are you feeling-"

I snapped and slapped his hand away. Amazement and shock ran through my veins as I yell, "You're Himaruya!"

The blond's wrinkled his nose, frowning slightly. "Seychelles, what are you talking about?" he demanded. "Who's Himaruya?" I didn't answer. This was why Seychelles was panicking- she realized that it wasn't Ari before I did. But she was afraid and couldn't do anything when the moment came. I heard my suspect sighed and reached for me again, saying, "You obviously hit your head or something. What in the world would make you think-"

Again, I slapped his hand away. "The fandom," I started, trying to fake fierceness. Unlike Seychelles, I was actually going to do something about this. However, I was just as scared as she was. It took every ounce of courage and willpower I possessed to explain, "Every good Hetalia fangirl knows that Estonia's looks were based on Himaruya himself. It would make sense that you'll want to be in a face like yours."

He gave me a look and shook his head. "So because I _look _like this guy, I am him?" He groaned. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"But you've always been there. I remember you being there in every cycle- even if it's just in the background. Sadiq even said that you were there in his past. And why would someone make a point of purposely being there? Because-" I stopped myself. Where were these words coming from? Since when did I have the brains to speak on my feet. Maybe it's from all the lies I've had to create. At least something good came from lying. Gulping, I pressed forward. "Because you had to make sure that everything was going to your plan. Face it, you're him."

He stared at me with such confusion that I started to feel the doubt. What if I was wrong? What if this was just my imagination getting the best of me? After all, it would make more sense if it was Ari- he did just attack me. Hearing my accusation aloud made it seem all the more flat. That was bad- I couldn't even convince myself that I was right. Sighed and I lowered my head in shame when Estonia didn't say anything.

Well, it was worth a shot . . .

"You're not half as stupid as I originally thought." If I didn't see his lips form the words, I would never had known that it was him speaking. His voice was darker, more . . . intimidating. I looked back up and saw a shadow over his eyes.

They were cold, like ice.

I stared at the smirk on his lips, stuttering, "I-I was r-right?"

His smirk fell into a frown. "Of course you are, Sherry," he said, taking a few steps closer to me. How did he know my name? I compulsively backed away. It was as if he was secreting poison- one touch and I was dead. "After all, everything you said is true. I-" Before I could stop him, he snatched my hand and brought it to his mouth. Frigid lips kissed it like an honorable gentleman. The cold was infectious- it spread through my veins and up my back until I could not move. "-am Hidekaz Himaruya, the creator of this world and everything Axis Powers Hetalia."

I stared at him with wide eyes. Now that I was face to face with him, what should I do? He seemed so powerful, there was nothing I could do to best him. Estonia- no, Himaruya -smirked and continued to hold my hand. "I have to admit I did not expect you to figure it out," he said. "I expected you to play your role and return home without any qualms."

"How could I?" I whispered. I attempted to draw my gaze into a glare, but my eyes refuse to listen. They wanted to be wide and gosh darn, that was what they were going to do. "How could I not care about what's going on here?"

His smirk grew wider and he slowly nodded. He knew that I was going to say that- he _wanted _me to say it.

Shit.

"Ah yes, you care very much to what everyone's fate shall be," he said. "But sadly, there is never anything you can do to help them. No matter what you do, Germany will still be suicidal, Liechtenstein will always be somewhat unhappy, and Sadiq will be caught in his own mess-"

Temporarily, I forgot my fear in order to snap, "But I did help them! Liechtenstein is with Italy, you made Germany gay, Sadiq-"

"Sadiq is still under my control." Himaruya innocently took off his glasses and wiped the lenses on his shirt. He slyly looked at my frustrated, hurt visage and found obvious joy in it. There was a small voice in my head that told me that I was falling into his trap, but I didn't listen to it- He brought Sadiq into this. "And unfortunately, there is nothing you can do about it."

"I can get France and England to kiss me," I returned. "If I do that, then you'll have to release him."

He laughed. "Sherry, both you and I know that its impossible. Sadiq is mine and that's that. Unless . . ." He placed his glasses back on, balancing them perfectly on the bridge of his nose. That infuriating smirk flickered into full brightness as he said, "Unless you had that one thing you lack."

I lack? I knitted my eyebrows together. "Which is?"

"Perfection." I couldn't help myself. I placed my hands over my mouth and gasped. He . . . how did he know that? I don't remember ever having voiced that opinion. How much _did _he know about me? He took another step forward and drew his face closer, saying, "Yes, perfection. How many times have you yearned for that one quality? After all, everyone around you is perfect- your mother, your friend, these characters. It's hard not to want it."

It felt as though I could not breathe. His face was so close to mine that his intimidating- knowledgeable -air was infecting my brain and body. I wanted to push him away but I couldn't move my arms. I wanted to tell him to piss off and go die in a ditch but I couldn't utter the words. The only thing I could do was stand there dumbly as he continued his speech.

"Has it not always been your dream to achieve it? To prove to everyone that you were someone to be reckoned with? And wouldn't your life be so much easier when and if it happens? If you were perfect, so many of your problems could have been avoided. You would have gotten that fateful kiss, figured out who I was, saved Sadiq." He chuckled when my eyes went wider. It drove me insane to think that he knew what my weakness was and was using it against me whenever he could. "There is so much you could do with it that it's hard not to desire it."

"I can't be perfect," I said, trying to gaining a footing against him. "No one can be absolutely perfect. It's impossible."

Himaruya seemed to drift closer into me until his cold breath was tickling the side of my cheek. I shuddered- was his whole being made of frozen ice? "You are forgetting one little detail, Sherry: I am the god of this world. For me, nothing is impossible." His lips pressed themselves against my ear. I seized up as every muscle in my body tensed. Whispering seductively, he said, "And I can make it happen to you, Just say the word and I'll do it."

I couldn't believe my ears. What he was offering me . . . I could help Sadiq, I could get him out of this mess. The key to our escape was within arm's reach, I just had to say yes. Still, the very thought of Sadiq made me hesitate. He had to give Himaruya something in return, what did I have to give? In a soft, weak voice, I squeaked, "At what price?"

My bad feeling did not disappear when he cupped my cheek. "You'll just have to pay me back someday," he told me, still taunting my ear. For a moment, I didn't answer. "Come on Sherry: one word and the world will be yours. Just say-"

Something inside of me exploded.

"No!" In one quick motion, I shoved him away from me and onto the floor. The blond landed hard on his butt, but did not show any pain. His eyes met mine as all of my bottled emotions came tumbling from my mouth. "You're like Ursula!" I yelled. "You're trying to trick me into one thing when you only want Triton's crown! I won't fall for your tricks! I am going to save Sadiq and make sure that assholes like you get your butts kicked!"

His visage turned dark. Obviously, he was not liking my resistance. Shit, I had to get out of here before he killed me. I turned in my heels and made a run for it. The only problem was that I went two steps before feeling every muscle in my body go dead. I froze mid stride, not even able to move my tongue. It was like Hooker-Sherry, but much worse. Probably since I knew that there was a crazy psychopath behind me.

"I am very disappointed in you Miss Sue," Himaruya said. I innerly shivered as I heard him rose back onto his feet and walk towards me. As much as I tried, I could not turn to look back at him. "It is very obvious now that you are going to be a bigger problem than I originally expected." He placed a hand on the back of my neck. "That is absolutely perfect."

A jolt of panic shot through me. Even now, I still fell straight into his trap! What the hell am I supposed to do now? I could hear the smirk in Himaruya's voice when he said, "You are going to be the key to my success."

I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I felt sleep wrap around my body. I had the will to fight it for a second, but quickly lost it. As the light left my eyes, I could only think of the horror of his words.

What have I done?

* * *

**Cycle 12: Thursday**

"I think we have everything in order," England declared, checking off the last item on his list. The ballroom was decked with splendorous decorations fit for any prom. Everything from lights to the DJ was there. He could not help but to him at himself when he thought of all of students that would be enjoying themselves in a short few hours. He turned to his boyfriend and smiled triumphantly, saying, "What do you think, France? Was I not right about the lights?"

Unlike the president, France was hesitant. His blue eyes shifted to every corner of the room. Something about it made him frown deeper. "I think that we need to cancel this," he said. "England, I don't think that it's going to be safe."

A pompous huff left his lips. "Safe?" The blond repeated, trying to hide his own concerns. "I understand what you're saying, but I think that it's fine." He pretended to scribble something onto his clipboard. Ignore every negative thought. "We're countries, we can handle ourselves."

The elder one sighed, thinking back to the awful week he'd been having. First, Turkey was discovered unconscious. Second, his daughter went crazy. Then Iceland was found after being banged in head and currently laid unconscious in the infirmary. And now, to top the icing on this cruel cake, Seychelles was missing. The last person to see her was Liechtenstein, but she was too confused to say much about it.

He tapped his foot on the marble dance floor. "We have two countries in Nurse Pangaea's care right now," he all but sneered. "Do you _really _think that this is going to be safe?"

"It has to be." England lowered his board and gave him a meaningful look. "France, everyone is panicking right now. They're thinking that someone is trying to claim territories and start a new empire. By showing that we have no concern, they are going to be at ease."

"But I'm not at ease! Seychelles is still missing and-"

"She's a smart girl; she can take care of herself."

Again, France sighed. "I know she can," he said softly. Emerald eyes rested on him and slowly realized that there was something more to his concern. They silently urged him on, begging to know the thorn in his side. They won when an annoyed sigh left his lips. "Remember how Seychelles mentioned that everything was going out of order?"

England also sighed. "Sure do- but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Germany asked me out." The Brit nearly dropped his clipboard.

That . . . that wasn't possible. Germany was straight- he nearly killed himself because of it. Someone doesn't just do things like that unless their feelings are true. So why change? Green eyes looking downward, he said, "Now that I think about it, I saw Liechtenstein asking Italy to the prom."

There was a short silence.

England tucked his clipboard under his arm. "Let's go," he said. "We have things to do." France was more than happy to agree. Together, the couple wandered down the halls, pondering their situation. There was definitely something going on. Whether it was Seychelles being this 'Sherry' person was still yet to be proven. But at that moment, they just need to find proof, a reason for all these attacks and gay feelings.

It came to France first. "Remember on Tuesday, when Seychelles first warned us?" He asked. England nodded. "She mentioned that someone's soul was on the line. Do you remember that name?"

"Oh God." The other rubbed his temples, trying to remember. Come on, he was a country! He should be able to remember something like this! A few moments of heels clicking down the wood floors passed before it came to him. "She said 'Sadiq.'"

"What kind of a name is that?"

"It's Turkish." Both of the men jumped, noticing for the first time that someone was behind them. Turning, they saw that it was Switzerland, gun at his hip, looking annoyed. They stared at him. When did he get there? How long has he been listening to them?

France recovered first. "Thank you Switzerland," he said, frowning slightly. "But, how do you know that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I just do." He walked away before they could question him further. For some reason, he was humming Celine Dion softly.

"That guy is so weird," The school president said, hands at his small hips. "I swear, he just looking for trouble."

"He said that the name was Turkish." England looked at his boyfriend just to be amazed at his expression. His beautiful eyes were wide and his lips were parted slightly. His eyebrows rose higher and higher as everything began to click. "England . . . Turkey's in the infirmary."

Sadiq was Turkey. Both of them ran for it.

Exactly five minutes and fifty-two seconds later, they were bursting into the school's infirmary. Panting heavily, the two sweaty blondes stood at the hallway and took in the scene. Nurse Pangaea was at Turkey's bedside, scribbling notes onto a chart. Her back was to the next bed over- Iceland with a white bandaged head, peacefully sleeping. She paid no heed to them, only that Turkey was finally awake.

Turkey looked distraught, almost terrified as he stared at his hands. Something about the world seemed off to him. It was as if he knew something that no one else did.

England straightened his back and placed two fingers in his mouth. He sharply whistled, drawing both of their attentions. "Nurse Pangaea, as school president, I am going to have to ask you to leave the room."

The plump lady scowled and shook her head. "I'm sorry, dear, but I have a patient to attend to," she snapped, shooing them away with her dark hands.

England sighed desperately. "But we just need to talk to Turkey-"

"Oh no you're not." They knew that they were in trouble when she stood and angrily marched towards them. "He is in a very delicate stage right now," she said, pushing them away from the door. England and France both braced themselves on the door frame. "The last thing he needs is for you two to corrupt him with your shenanigans-"

"We just need one minute with him!" France exclaimed. He peeked his head over her shoulder and cried out, "Turkey! Tell her to stop! This is important!" Said man stared at them with a haunted look. His knuckles were white from tightly gripping the bed sheets. Inside, he was wondering _why _he was here. His lips move silently for a few moments before he shook his head. The Frenchman groaned. "It's about Sherry-"

"Let them in!" At first, Nurse Pangaea ignored him as she continued to shove the intruders away. She only stopped when Turkey pressed his lips and yelled, "I said to let the jackasses in!" Turkey's eyes gleamed with determination and his eyebrows were furrowed with frustration. All three of them stared at him, unsure of how to take his sudden change of demeanor. "And I'm fine, Nurse Pangaea. Listen to England and go take a break."

The woman curtly nodded, reminding him to call if he was feeling any different. Her blue eyes stole one last glare at the two student council members before grabbing her porn and marching out. The couple turned and watched her retreating back. She was going to hold this over their heads . . .

"You said that this involved Sherry." They jumped and turned to see Turkey glaring at them. Both of them felt the sweat on their necks. With how seriously he was taking this, France and England could not doubt this 'Sherry's' importance. In nothing short of a sneer, the Turk growled, "You jackasses have one minute to tell me what happened or else."

France immediately rambled off the words in a minute or less: "Seychelles went on earlier this week, saying that she was this person named Sherry and this guy named Sadiq- we're presuming that's you - is at risk of losing his soul. Even when we didn't believe her, she still insisted. And now she's missing and we have no idea where she might be. And with all the attacks going on at the school, we think that something really bad happened to her."

Turkey sat in a quiet appreciation for what he had been told. Both the Frenchie and England looked at him with expecting glances, silently begging for him to give a response. Neither of them were even sure _if _Turkey was the one they should trust, but the look in his eyes said otherwise. At last, he ran his fingers through his hair, muttering Turkish swears. "That girl is so dense," he said, chuckling slightly. "I tell her to do one thing and she does another."

France grinned. "So you believe us?" he asked. There was a hope in his tone that England's scowling expression denied. After all, why get your hopes up when there was still chance for them to be wrong?

His response was a curt nod.

Barely able to contain his happiness, the Frenchman squealed and attacked his boyfriend with a hug. "I knew it!" He all but yelled. "See darling! I told you that Seychelles was in trouble!"

"He never said that Seychelles was in trouble!" England snapped, red from anger and embarrassment. Trying to shove his lover away, he added, "He just confirmed that there _is _someone by the name of Sherry here right now."

"Idiots. Obviously Sherry is in Seychelles's body." They paused. Neither of the blondes had said it- Turkey had a Macy's bag on his lap as he searched for some unknown object. All three eyes, however, drifted to the bed across from them. There Iceland laid, conscious and coolly looking at them as if they were idiots. His blue eyes gave them the condescending look they deserved as he lightly patted the bandage on his head. Their crisp whiteness nearly blended in with his skin and hair.

Turkey pulled out his school slacks and started excavating the pockets. He asked, "What makes you say that, kid? The last I checked, you didn't easily believe in nonsense."

Iceland shrugged. "Sherry told me herself."

"When?"

"After you kissed her."

In one loud commotion, both France and England choked on air and nearly fainted. "You kissed our daughter?" the school president shrieked, face full of horror and panic. "You appear to be twenty years her senior - do you know how wrong that is?"

France, on the other hand, just shrugged. "It's not wrong if it's love," he said easily. Ignoring the loud protests of the sandy blonde, he flounced to the side of the Turk's bed and propped his head on the edge. "Now tell me: do you love my daughter?"

Turkey was starting to wish that he was back in the room. Anything would be better than having to deal with these crazy parents.

His face remained blank as his honey eyes drifted between the blondes and the other patient. Iceland's visage was also blank, but his eyes asked him to think of him and Turkey had to. Every memory of the young love glared him in the face, demanding that he did the right thing. "First of all," he said. "This is not Seychelles we are talking about, but Sherry _in _Seychelles's body. There's a difference. Secondly, I did not kiss her. I faked it so that the kid there wouldn't get her distracted from the things we had to do. Third, France, you are a terrible father-."

He shrugged. "Love can never be denied-"

England groaned, "Oh would you _please _be quiet, git!"

Turkey frowned. Speaking louder, above their little commotion, he finished, "And lastly, Iceland, how do you remember that?"

As France and England slowly grew quiet (even they could perceive the sober air), the nordic shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "Sherry told me about the cycles and how I will forget, but I just remember."

"Every single one?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

The other nodded. "Yeah. I remember forgetting and being indifferent about her."

Out of the two student council members, England was the only one fully understanding the situation. After all, this was just magic. He always boasted about mastery of it. However, France's brows were knitting in a perplexed manner, but he did not voice a question. If the other three could understand it, why couldn't he?

The Brit pulled up a stool, asking, "Has there been anything else that's been abnormal? Is there anyone else who knows about Sherry?"

Turkey shook his head. "It's only the four of us," he said. "As for abnormality . . ." The haunted look appeared again, shining in his eyes for a brief instant. But quickly enough, he shook his head and shoved it away. "There's nothing you should be worried about."

He opened his mouth, ready to press for more information-

"I lost control of my body."

* * *

**MW: **I found it funny how people figured out that I like making small details matter and went nitpicking at every character. Yet NO ONE every stopped to wonder why I went out of the way to stick Estonia in every chapter (seriously, go back and re read everything. He's there).

Well everyone, next chapter will hopefully come soon. So remember to review.

**No Funfacts Today! **

**Next Chapter: **With Sherry compromised, Sadiq and the others go off to finish the job.

**Review? Sek deserves it!**


	13. The Symphony of Unrequited Love

**MW: **155 reviews? 155 reviews? What manner of sorcery is this? Since when did this . . .  
**SEK: **What can I say but that the readers are awesome and need to be thanked. So thank you all. Now explain to them why this chapter took so long.  
**MW: **Like last time, it was anxiety. However, it actually evolved into writer's block. So I had to suffer a weeklong of sitting in front of the computer, trying to will myself to write.  
**BFTL: **Sounds awful. How did you ever break it?  
**MW: **I decided to check out the Seychelles tag on tumblr. And you want to know what found? A post on a confessions blog about how this fic made them like Seychelles.  
**Unknown: **That is where you are wrong!  
**SEK: **What the-  
**Unknown: ***jumps in through a window* It is I, **MK. **MW's less douchebaggy twin from a parallel universe. And the post credited me, not you!  
**MW: **Correction- you are my evil twin that was created when multiple people kept on crediting us as "BFTLandMKandSEK". It is a simple mistake that I am making fun of.  
**MK: **Well I'm still less of a douchebag. Wanna know why? Last chapter, you forgot to give our precious fanart a spot light. **The-Panda-Bread** of deviantArt drew a relationship chart of everyone's relationship as it was by the end of Chapter 11. And it has the cutest little chibis. Link for it is in our profile, so please go look at it.  
**MW: **I was in a hurry and I forgot! And are you sure that you aren't the douchebag?  
**MK: **Yes since I shall not guilt the readers into reviewing this chapter. So ha!

**Chapter Summary: **As the boys try to figure out where Sherry is, the girl herself is caught in a sticky situation.  
**Warnings: **Strong language, Violence (including blood), Sexual references, mild OC X Canon, my terrible 3rd person writing skills, and yaoi.  
**Disclaimer: **Even after all this time I still do not own Hetalia. Neither does MK.

* * *

**~Chapter 13~**

**The Symphony of Unrequited Love **

"_But it was not your fault but mine_  
_And it was your heart on the line_  
_I really fucked it up this time_  
_Didn't I, my dear?"_  
**-From "Little Lion Man", a British song by Mumford and So**ns

* * *

**Cycle 12: Unknown Place**

Turkey hugged his knees. He knew that it was bad when he started to feel comfortable in the starched clothes. But he had to admit: the change of scenery was nice. The usual white walls were gone and he was now sitting on a grassy hill covered with wildflowers. The slight warm breeze made the dandelions fall apart and litter the air. It was all idyllic. But there was still one thought nagging him.

How long has he been here? How was Sherry doing? Did Himaruya get to her already?

He carefully plucked one of the few whole dandelions from the ground and held it to his face. "Please be safe," he whispered, watching the white fluffs fall apart and fly far away from him. "If something bad happens to you, I don't know what I'll do."

* * *

**Cycle 12: Thursday**

All three men stared at him. Iceland's blue eyes were looking down to his bed and his pale hands wrung the sheet unmercifully. Not waiting for anyone to question him, he explained, "I woke up on Wednesday and I just couldn't move my own body. Hell, I couldn't even talk at my own command. For some reason, I went through all of my classes then hunted down Sherry. And I . . . Pops, I'm so sorry."

Turkey edged closer to the bed's edge. "What did you do?" he growled.

"I-"

England pointed an accusing finger. "You're responsible for her disappearance, aren't you?"

Immediately, he fiercely shook his head. "Yes, I did attack her, but I'm not responsible for her disappearance," he denied. The office was silent for a moment and the word sunk in. In an afterthought, he added, "That is, that I know of."

Turkey said, "So you admit to maybe playing a part?"

"Pops!" Iceland hanged his head and groaned in frustration. "I didn't have any control of what I was doing!"

"But you remember everything that happened," England pointed out. "So you at least witnessed it."

"Both of you are idiots." France took center stage as he sat on the edge of his defendant's bed. Absently, he hand a finger through his wavy locks, momentarily enjoying his superior knowledge. He said, "Think about it: how could Iceland play a major role if he was knocked unconscious?"

"He could have done it before that happened." England crossed his legs and folded his hands. "But I do have to agree with you: Iceland wouldn't want to hurt Sherry and Seychelles." Said man sighed with relief. "However, that doesn't mean that whoever took over your body doesn't."

"It doesn't want to hurt either of them either." All three turned back to Turkey. The tanned man was throwing off his blankets and moving towards the edge of his bed. He rubbed his hand up and down his legs, as if making sure that they still worked. "That _thing _wants to hurt me and if it has to kill the world, it will."

France scooted closer to the man, saying. "Turkey, if we are to help you, we _have _to know who we're up against."

Again, he looked down. His breaths were slow and controlled as he quelled whatever fear he may have. But soon enough, he was back to work- changing into the clothes that were in his Macy's bag. After coaxing Iceland to do the same, he quickly explained everything he knew about Himaruya. To spare himself the embarrassment, he omitted the strange love situation he had been thrown into. That was a little too personal and probably wouldn't play a part anyways.

The expression of his audience's faces was perfectly somber with raised eyebrows and parted lips. Turkey was buttoning the last button on his shirt when his tale came to an abrupt end.

"So Estonia is behind this?" England confirmed, helping Iceland tie his shoes (the Nordic was muttering about how unnecessary it was, but the parental man could care less). "That's . . . are you sure?"

"I know what I saw." He pulled his arms through the sleeves of his green hoodie. "I have no doubt about it."

"Now that I think about it, I haven't seen the boy in a while," France added, rubbing his stubbly chin thoughtfully. "He's just always been . . . _there."_

Turkey smoothed his jacket of the creases and wrinkles. "I know. Sneaky jackass."

At last, Iceland kicked England away and finished tying his own dress shoes. Taking his blazer from his own bag, he said, "That's nice and all, but our main concern should be finding Sherry-Seychelles." He jumped off his bed and swung the blazer over his shoulder in his usual style. "So, where should we start?"

England and France looked to Turkey. "Why are you jackasses looking at me?" he demanded. "I've been out for three days!"

"But you know more than we do."

Groaning, he ran his hand through his hair. For a few beats, he did nothing about mumble to himself. The expectant eyes never left him. At last, he nodded and looked them straight on. "I want to see the place where Iceland was attacked."

Grandly, England grabbed Iceland's hand and pointed to the hallway. "Alright then, chaps!" he yelled, eyes shining in sweet nostalgia. The memories of his pirate days were right behind his eyelids- saving the damsel against unfavorable odds. "We're off on an adventure!" With Iceland cursing his very existence, he dragged him out, laughing a hardy laugh.

France smirked and shook his head. "He's so spirited," he said wistfully. "I wish that he could always be like. . . "He trailed off as Turkey continued to run his hands through his hair, eyes distant. His mind was somewhere else- that was obvious. France pressed his lips together. "What are you looking for?"

Turkey jumped back to his feet, suddenly aware of what he was doing. France continued to look at him with a no-nonsense look. The brunette sighed. "It's nothing much," he explained. "I was just thinking. . ."

The other grinned and strongly patted his back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

The Turk shook his head. "No thank you." France looked back up at him. A deeper frown replaced his superficial one. Looking off to the side, Turkey said, "There are other things we should be worried about."

France pressed his lips and nodded again. Before he could offer anything else, England popped his head back through the doorway. In an annoyed tone, he demanded that the 'stupid gits' stopped their conversation and 'get their asses moving'. His boyfriend called out an agreement before running to meet him. Turkey lingered behind.

What if he was doing the wrong thing? Could he trust any of them not to double cross him? After all, Himaruya did guarantee that he was going to hurt Sherry.

Solemnly, he ran to meet them. These were the only people he had; he had to at least pretend to trust them.

It was strange- running after spending most of the week in slumber. Turkey's legs felt stiff like concrete. They ached at every joint, protesting the new speed. Still, his new team was at the end of the hall, making their way to the scene of the crime. If he just reached them . . .

"Turkey-kins!" The noise was more effective than Himaruya's frigid presence. Blood turned to ice as cold sweat ran down his back. That voice- that sweet, sweet voice. It could only be. . .

"I, like, didn't know that you were discharged!" Poland exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his waist. Turkey's back went tense as he felt Poland press his face into his back. How badly he wanted to hug him back. "Did you get the flowers I totally sent you? They're totes my goats awesome."

Turkey was suddenly aware that Iceland, France, and England were waiting for him a few yards away. The Brit was scowling, demanding that he hurried up. But Turkey didn't want to. He wanted to stay by the Pole's side and make sure that Himaruya did not get his hands around him. He had to keep him safe.

But he also had to find Sherry.

Pealing the other's arms away, Turkey turned to face his boyfriend. In one swift moment, he kissed his lips and held his wrists. When they broke apart, he wasted no time in saying, "Poland, I want you to trust me. Things are dangerous right now and I need you to stay with Switzerland- he'll keep you safe."

"Turkey, what's going on?" He asked, pleading with his green eyes. "Why wouldn't I, like, be safe?"

Turkey held his wrists tighter. "Promise me that you'll do that."

He hesitated. " . . . I promise. But Tur-"

The brunette turned him to the opposite direction and lightly nudged him in that direction. "Go now," he ordered. "The sooner you get to him, the better."

"Turkey."

"Yes?"

Poland ran back to him and quickly kissed his cheek. The man allowed himself to close his eyes and enjoy the static that riddled through his veins. "I love you," the blond said before doing as he was ordered.

Turkey watched him go, feeling his heart grow heavier. He could only pray that he would be with him again. In darker spirits, he turned to join the rest of his team.

The foursome traveled down the halls in a heavy silence. All of them were wrapped in their own concerns and worries. It weighed on their shoulders, threatening to break their backs. Still, they continued on, sure to discover something important. At last, England and France stopped at a taped off area. The yellow plastic declared it to be off limits, yet the student council members merely shrugged and ducked underneath. Turkey and Iceland exchanged looks and followed.

"This is where we found you, Iceland," the Brit said, gesturing to the area in front of a closed door. Cardboard signs with numbers littered the floor, marking the blood stains. The silver haired man gulped, realizing that it was his. "Do you see anything out of place?"

He shook his head. "Everything's where it should be." His face, France noticed, was significantly paler. "Can we get out of here?" he asked quickly. "I don't think that we're going to find anything here."

England laughed. "Nonsense; there is always something new to discover."

"Are you so sure of that, England?" Turkey asked as he squatted closer to the ground. His honey eyes lingered over the spots of red. "Who investigated it?"

England shrugged. "Crime Scene Investigator Pangaea."

"Jackass never does a good job."

"Well she was the only one who could. America and Denmark tried to investigate, but we kicked them out. They were going on about something involving Canada. . ."

France, meanwhile, stepped around Turley and placed a strong hand on the Nordic's shoulder. "Is something wrong?" he asked. "You don't look very good."

Iceland nodded. "I don't feel very good," he responded, growing another shade whiter. "Is that really my blood?'

France wrapped a sure arm around the near fainting man. "Hold it together, Iceland," he ordered, supporting his weakening body. "You're a nation and nations can deal with blood."

"I have no problem with blood," Iceland half-heartedly snapped. "It's _my _blood that's making me sick." He placed a hand on his forehead. "God- this wound isn't helping either." He grumbled a second longer before tuning into the other two investigators.

Turkey stood and released an irritated huff. "There has to be something here," he said, giving the area a general look. His eyes fixed themselves on the door. "Has anyone checked to see what's in there?"

"It's a closet," England replied, watching Turkey open it. "It was closed when we got here so there can't be anything important inside."

"Oh really? Because I just found the jackpot." The Mediterranean nation stepped aside to reveal Seychelles's bag lying perfectly intact in the  
closet. He cockily smiled when England smacked his forehead.

"Why didn't she check there?" He groaned, reminding himself to have a word with the woman later. Maybe he could convince their bosses to cut her pay. Moving next to him, he called for France and Iceland to follow along.

France, however, only shook his head. "I don't think that's a very good idea, my dear. Iceland is feeling a bit dizzy right now."

Turkey turned to them, raising an eyebrow. "Are you alright kid?" he asked. "You can go back to the nurse's if you want."

He shook his head and allowed France to help him walk to the closet. "It's fine, really. I just need a little backbone-" It happened again. By 'it', I mean the bad luck Sherry was infamous for.

Iceland tripped. Yes, the Nordic fell over solid air, bringing France down with them. Both of them crashed right into the other two. The Frenchman blindly reached out and firmly grabbed the doorknob. But still, he continued to fall. All four of them landed inside the closet before the door accidently closed behind him.

They groaned, fighting to find a good position in the small, dark space. England and Turkey were curled up on the ground with France and Iceland laying on top of them. "Get your ass out of my face!" England snapped, trying to push France into Iceland.

"But my little bunny, I thought you liked it when-"

Iceland groaned and kicked him further away. "Can you two keep your hormones out of this?" he weakly demanded, feeling his world spin. It felt as though he hit his already injured head again.

Turkey untangled himself from the Brit and did his best to sit up. The younger nation protested as he crashed into the wall. "Sorry kid," the Turk growled, trying to bring his upper half completely of the ground. "Just trying to get comfortable."

"Well can you do it some other time?" Iceland demanded. "You're making me kiss the wall."

The elder sighed. He snapped, "Well how about you open the door so that it _wouldn't _be a problem?"

"Fine." The nation scooted across Turkey's body and placed a hand on the handle. At first, he merely thought that he was turning it the wrong way. But when the door refused to open, he thought that the gears were stuck. But then the realization hit him. "Guys . . ."

Turkey snapped at France and England to be quiet. They did their best to watch as Iceland slowly turned to them with wide eyes. Softly, he told them the worst news possible. "Guys . . . the door is locked."

* * *

**Cycle 12: Thursday **

At first, I did not want to wake up. It was as if I knew that when I did, I was going to be faced with the cruel reality of this world. But as the cold air blew across my face, I knew that I would have to eventually. There was only so much you could run from. Slowly, my eyes opened and I saw the massive iron bells hanging above me.

Great, I was at the bell tower. Nothing good ever happens here- especially when you're handcuffed to a pillar. Plus that kiss was pretty bad. Unless you guys ship me with Sadiq, but that's kind of gross (still have nightmares of his faking kissing me every night) (Alright, I lie. But still, it _haunts _me!). He's like 1000-something years old. That's being a pedo of the first degree. Then again, he was kind of handsome . . .

I shook the thought away. He was my _father! _Damnit, why did I always have to remind myself of that? Just platonic, no lovely-dove thoughts.

But he was still hot.

"I see that you are finally awake." I snapped my head around until I found him. Himaruya was leaning against the pillar across from mine, idly playing with the ends of his sleeves. It was odd to see Estonia not attached to some electronical device. Those machines were extensions of his body- like a third nipple.

When I did not snap a sly comment, he sighed. "What happened to your smart-ass stupidity?" he drawled, looking up to the sky. "You're no fun if you don't give me a headache."

Well, if he wanted something nasty from me, I'll give him shit. "You're the biggest asshole in the world," I sneered, wishing that I could stand and smack him. "I wish that you could go fuck yourself to death or something."

He chortled, "Or something? Do you really lack the brains to think of an alternative?" I opened my mouth, believing that I had a comeback, but my voice never came. The fear that previous chained me was back, making sure that I trembled in his presence. My legs were shaking profusely. Luckily, I was sitting therefore it was unnoticeable.

Himaruya sighed again. Wearing a tired face, he kicked off his pillar and walked towards me, saying, "I do not understand people like you." He squatted to my height and placed a heavy hand on my head, like a father to his daughter. "How can someone love my work so much yet ruin it so?"

I blinked. "What?"

"This all started as a doodle, something to keep me entertained in New York, yet it all turned into this."

"And what is so wrong with 'this'?" I asked, hoping that I wasn't making a serious mistake and falling back into his trap.

He pressed harder on my head. I winced, feeling my spinal cord crush. Hmm, this must be what Latvia feels like. "Of course you do not see it," he said, glaring ever so slightly at me. "You are, after all, part of the problem. But I will educate you about it. See here, I only want my series to be for the enjoyment of others. But how can anyone enjoy it if people are constantly telling them to hate this or 'ship' that?"

"Like I'll believe that," I growled, fighting against his force. He only crushed my spine further. "It's a fandom; people are going to be jerks."

He made an annoyed 'tsk' sound as he ruffled my hair. "You are so naive," he said. "I can feel the hatred Seychelles feels for people like you. People who hate her, resent her. And it is rather ironic, considering that I only created her to please the fans. Seychelles is meant to be the personification of the fans."

"We like yaoi too much," I deadpanned. "Give us a guy and we would've worshiped the very ground he walked."

"That is another thing that I do not understand. My fans are mostly women, yet they all have something against the females characters."

This time, I shrugged. "I personally don't find them to be very interesting characters," I said. "But I don't hate them, I just . . ." I trailed off. The word was there, right on the tip of my tongue. I smirked at the irony and lightly chuckled. "I _respect _them," I continued, knowing how happy Bella must be right now. I bet she was suddenly having a spaz attack for no apparent reason. "I may not particularly care for them, but I wouldn't go around hating on the people who do. I have my OTPs and they have theirs."

Himaruya gave a wry smile and shook his head. "You lie. You hated on Seychelles, remember? Isn't that why you're here?"

"Your plan worked." He quirked an eyebrow and looked at me. My legs suddenly didn't feel so weak anymore. It felt as though I had leverage against him and by God I was going to use it. "You sent me here so that I can learn to respect Seychelles. And you want to know something? It fucking worked. I respect her- I understand her better than you ever will. And you want to know something else? The only person here who's lacking respect is you. You need to respect that your fans have certain ideas and as freaking stupid they may be, they will never change."

For a long moment he merely stared at me. Then an amused grin stretched across his face. I was afraid for a moment that it was because I trapped myself again, but it quickly went away when he laughed. His cruel mirth bounced easily around the air. "You are a very interesting person, Sherry. Just when I think I know you, you say something so ridiculous that I have to reconsider my opinion."

I frowned. "How is that ridiculous? I-"

"Am I to be expected to respect those who refuse to respect me?" He demanded.

With an eye roll: "What goes around fucking comes around."

He shot to his feet like a rocket into the sky. I flinched, making sure his knees didn't accidently hit my face. "The world does not work that way," he spat, dark shadows crossing over his eyes. I flinched, praying that he didn't end up slapping me or something else of the sorts. "You can feel all you want about something, but those feelings will never be rightfully returned."

I stared. Feelings? He had feeling for someone? "By the perplexed look on your face, I would say that you do not understand the context of my words." He walked away, pacing in a semicircle around me. I trailed him with my eyes, wondering where in the world he was going with this. "I will make this very simple for you. Sadiq is a rather attractive man and has an array of lovers. This includes Poland, Switzerland, Seychelles, you-"

I scowled. "-I do not -"

"-And me." For a moment, all I could do was gape. Did he just say what I just think he said? Is freaking Himaruya/Estonia actually in love with Sadiq as well?

I shook my head, huffing, "That's crazy, why would you-"

"Why else would I go through so much trouble?" The blond's pacing grew faster as he listed his causes. "I've loved Turkey long before he hooked up with Switzerland. I deserved him, not that flat blond. It eventually got to the point where I just had to have him. So I made the contract with him and won his soul."

"I already heard this story," I growled. "After having him for three minutes, Sadiq demanded his freedom from you."

Himaruya smirked, a light chuckle in his voice as he asked, "Do you not think that I know that? Would I be repeating myself if he had told you the whole story?" My face fell. "The _first_ time I called in on my deal, I had no mercy. I changed Turkey's mind so that he did love me. Unfortunately, to my dismay, love cannot be forced. Even though his feelings were true, I knew better. I knew that he only loved me because I was forcing him. All the magic of our relationship was gone. I knew that I had to release him. Thus I wiped all evidence that it ever happened, made sure that the change was permanent, and left him to sulk."

He paused in front of me and knelt to my height. Like parent to his child, he continued, "But the whole time I longed for him. I just wanted him to love me and I was perfectly content with feeling that longing forever. But then he started dating Poland. Let's just say that jealousy ensued. Naturally, I had to figure out a way to get him back. To my luck, Seychelles was dumb enough to accidentally take my computer. I saw a way to kill two birds with one stone and I did it."

His close proximity was the only thing that kept me from rolling my eyes. Damn, this sounds like a bad doushinji. Or a HetaOni parody. "One problem Sherlock: you are 'god'," I said. "Why didn't you just redo the whole forced love thingy?"

"That is the one flaw of my abilities: I cannot undo that which I made permanent. My 'love potion' was never meant to be permanent- just in case. But I made the undoing of it so. Thus, I cannot make him forcibly fall in love with me again. Understand?"

"I'm going to pretend that I do."

He drew even closer to me. His nose brushed against mine and his cold breath danced against my skin. I shivered, trying not to think of the things that he could do to me or anyone else here. "That is no problem," he said, voice dripping with a heavy dosage of power. "I have all night to help you understand."

I really hate the bell tower.

* * *

**Cycle 12: Thursday **

"I spy with my little eye something that is black."

"It's the door, isn't it?"

"Damnit."

We now return to the fearsome foursome and their captivity in the closet. Hours have passed and the men were bored out of their mind. After Seychelles's backpack yielded no evidence of use, they attempted to break the door down. But the space was too small and much too cramp for them to even properly ram their shoulder into it. Giving up, they were left to discuss where they thought their missing girl was. However, once the brains of the group's head injury became too much, Iceland fell asleep and the remaining three were left alone.

At that point, they were seat in the most comfortable positions possible: Turkey to the right with a sleeping Nordic on his lap between his knees and chest. To the left was France and England in a similar manner. England was originally on the bottom, but the elder's weight was so heavy that he had painfully played a game of Twister until he was on top. That nearly resulted with a broken nose for all four of them.

"This game is stupid," England complained, the lack of light covering his glare. "There is nothing in here _but _the door."

France and Turkey exchanged glances and shrugged. "Well we already tried other things," an annoyed Turkey pointed out. "We did the bag-"

"Iceland's bandage," France helpfully added.

"My hoodie,"

"You're lovely butt-"

England did his best to raise his hand in defeat without hitting someone or the wall. "Alright, chaps, that's enough," he ordered testily. "I believe I got the point." They saw the hint to be quiet and they took it. For what felt like forever, they sat in an uncomfortable silence, listening to nothing but Iceland's steady breathing.

The already scarce light twinkling from under the door was further dimming, making them even more aware of the passage of time. France leaned his head back and sighed. "Hey Turkey."

Said man didn't even look at him. "Hm?"

"What will you do if you lose your soul?"

The air suddenly felt heavy. England looked at his boyfriend and frowned. "Git, don't ask something like that," he snapped, furrowing his eyebrows. "He probably doesn't want to talk about it."

Amazingly, the Turk only shook his head. "No, it's fine," he said. He too leaned his head against the wall in thought. "I've never actually put any thought into it," he confessed, gently brushing the hair from Iceland's face. "I've just always told myself that I was going to find a way out. But now . . . I guess I know what I'll do."

This time, France was not the one who pushed. England leaned forward, eyebrow raised as he prompted, "Which is?"

He sighed. "I'll-"

"Guys! Look!" The Frenchman shot his arm out and pointed at the base of the door. Plenty of light was suddenly flooding in through the small crack. What was more, there were voice talking a little distance away. All of their eyes lit up and they immediately started calling for help. Their ruckus woke Iceland, who yawned and mumbled his confusion. But even he was back in full alert when the door was opened.

America and Denmark were their saviors. The two blondes created dark silhouettes against the bright fluorescent lights. Everyone in the closet tried not to groan as the American laughed, saying, "Dude! I think we found Canada!"

Denmark nodded. "Yeah, yeah," he said, waving it off. "But too bad it's so small."

"We could expand it Harry Potter style."

Iceland and Turkey both gave England a condescending look. The Nordic was frowning deeply as he said, "England, you raised an idiot."

The Brit pouted. "He's not an idiot," he practically whined. "He's just special."

The Turk sighed and turned his attention back to the standing men. "What are you two even doing here?" he asked. "This is a closed off area."

America grinned broadly and pounded a hand on his chest. "I, obviously, am on a search for the ever fated Canada," he announced grandly. A waving star-spangle banner would have fitted perfectly in the background. "For centuries, explorers such as Lewis and Clark, Indiana Jones-"

"That's a fictional character," Iceland interjected. No one paid him any heed.

"-and that dude that discovered sliced bread have wandered the face of the earth in search of it. But because of the evil Loki, none have ever been able to find it."

"America!" The Dane punched his shoulder, half playful, half hateful. "I thought that we agreed that Loki is an honorary Avenger! His badass ways make him a worthy bad-guy turned good."

The other pouted as his blue eyes resembled that of a lonely puppy. "I thought that was only in our Frost Iron fic!"

At last, France had enough. "We're wasting time," he said, motioning England to get off his lap. He did so, dragging the crippled man along with him. At last, the biggest of the foursome was able to stand. They groaned, cracking their backs and stretching their legs. "Remind me to never sit down again . . ."

England nudged America's shoulder. The younger brother took enough time away from his shipping war to be asked what the time was. "It's about ten," he said, looking at the clock on his wrist. Denmark was doing a similar action, except his wrist was bare. Weirdo. "By the way, what were you guys even doing in there?"

"Looking for someone," Iceland said immediately. He hand was latched onto England shoulder, making sure that he loose to his dizziness. "Have either of you possibly seen Seychelles or Estonia anywhere?"

"Well of course I have." All eyes shot to Denmark. He was smiling obviously as his eyes twinkled with mirth. "Well I haven't seen them myself, per say, but I was walking down the hallway earlier and some voice just told me to tell you guys that Seychelles was at the obvious spot."

England stared at him blankly. "A voice told you?"

The Dane put another second of thought into it before smiling again. "Yup!"

"Bloody hell, that's the worst advice I've-"

"No, it's the best." Turkey rubbed his chin, thinking it everything through. "When I was in that room, sometimes Himaruya would never show himself," he told them, sounding very much like a rambling professor. "He would only be a voice from nowhere."

France shook his head, saying, "I completely believe you on that, Turkey, but what about the place? What would be the obvious spot?"

There was a pause as he thought about it. The obvious spot- something important must have happened there, but what? Was it at the Prom? No, too many people. The bell tower had nothing directly to do with Himaruya. "It's the bar," the nation said at last. "That's where I first became boyfriends with Poland. It has to be."

Nonchalantly, Turkey placed an arm around the silver haired man's waist. Iceland took the hint and wrapped his arms around his neck. He picked him up bridal style. "Let's get going," he ordered, starting off at a quick jog. "The sooner we get there, the better."

England and France exchanged glances. "My little bunny, would you carry me?" The taller one asked, causing his boyfriend to blush deeply.

"B-bloody hell no!" England yelled, cheeks puffing out with red. He turned his face away, trying to hide is obvious embarrassment. "You're too heavy."

"But Iceland-"

"He's injured! He can't even stand properly!"

"Hey! Jackasses!" They jumped, realizing that Turkey was at the end of the hall, glaring at them. "Hurry up! We have less than two hours!" They exchanged a quick nod before running after him.

America and Denmark waved them off, calling out loud and goofy goodbyes. Once they were gone, they mutually decided to try out some new kinks for their fanfiction. Because Tony Stark and Loki Odinson need their strange sex scenes too.

But that's completely irrelevant.

Carrying Iceland, Turkey ran as fast as he could to the bar. The distant music from the prom pounded loudly against his ears, syncing with his heart. Time seemed to move too slowly as he led the group down. What if he was too late? What if the worst possible thing has already happened?

What if he really let her down?

"Here!" The Turk gently placed Iceland back on the ground, a few feet away from the bar door. He waited a second for England and France to catch up. Both of their faces were flushed and their breaths were weighted.

"Bloody hell Turkey," the Brit panted, placing his hands on his knees. "When did you learn to run so fast?"

He shook his head. "You just need to learn to run," he said, placing a hand on the cold doorknob. For a second, he wallowed in the goose bumps that ran up the sides of his arm. But he also shook that away and turned it.

A mocking click met his ears. Locked.

He groaned. "Everyone, stand back," he ordered, backing up until his back was against the opposite wall. "This will get messy."

Iceland looked at his feet and back at the door, comparing his distance. Evidently, he decided that he was too close and took a few shaky steps back. "Pops, what are you trying-?"

Turkey ran as fast as he could into the door and kicked it with all his might. A few seconds later, he was curing and clutching his ankle as the intact door seemed to laugh at him. "Holy shit!" he cursed, pounding his free hand against the wall. "That fucking- why didn't that break?"

Meanwhile, England and France exchange glances with Iceland and giggled. Smiling, the Frenchman placed a hand on his shoulder, saying, "My friend, all of the doors in this school are nation-proofed. You can kick it all you want, but it isn't going to break."

Again, he groaned, "Well do either of you jackasses have the key?"

"No, Bartender Pangaea has the only copy," England replied. "But since Nurse Pangaea is pissed off at us, I highly doubt that she would open it for us."

Iceland rolled his eyes and crossed his hands over his chest. "Why don't we get Belarus to open it?" he asked. All three of them stared at him. "Last time I checked, she can easily break her hand through the wood."

"Well someone is going to have to find the lady."

France shot his hand in the air. "Two people will go," he declared before shooting out at top speed, "One-two-three-not it!"

Iceland's hand shot up even higher. "Not it!"

"Not it!"

"Not it- oh hell!"

England and Turkey were the two tributes. Courting death (or at least in their eyes), they kissed their love ones goodbye and set out to find her. The obvious place to start was the prom. After all, what high school girl would not be spending her time there? Staying together, they plunged into the dancing crowd and searched for the girl with the knives.

Romantic ballads were played on the highest volume, causing the walls to shake ruthlessly. The air was hot and heavy, smelling distinctly of sweat. Turkey could not help but to crinkle his nose. How was this supposed to be romantic? He and England peeled apart dancing couples like Moses and the Red Sea.

Eventually, they spotted her in the middle of the dance floor, holding Belgium close as they swayed to the rhythm. The two men looked at each other. Who was going to be the one to risk his life and ask her? They did a quick game of rock-paper-scissors.

One, two, three, shoot!

Turkey won.

England made the sign of the cross and looked to the heavens as he gave his possibly last prayers. Timidly, he tapped the scary woman's shoulder, saying, "Excuse me, ma'am-"

In a flash, she moved Belgium behind herself and glared at him. "What do you want?" she growled, hatefully curling her lower lips. "Can't you see that we're busy?"

The Brit scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. "I can see that," he said, sweating a storm. His emerald eyes shifted over to Turkey, silently begging for reinforcements. The man gestured for him to just try. "But we are in a bit of a tight spot right now, and-"

"Get someone else to do it," Belarus snapped, immediately turning back to Belgium. She held her close and tried to resume the dance, but the Flemish woman was peeking her head at them. The ex-Soviet sighed and pulled away, asking, "What's wrong?"

"Belarus, don't you think that it would be a good idea to at least listen to what they say?" She asked, curls bobbing in sync with her moving head. Her green eyes shined with an unspeakable kindness as she said, "After all, it is the right thing to do, right?"

Turley and England watched in amazement as the school psychopath took the hint. Arms dropping uselessly to her side, she coughed, "So what do you need help with again?"

They exchanged another glance. Well this had to be a first from her. Since when was she ever this nice to anyone? But as they wondered about it, the more it became apparent that Belgium was forcing her to become a better person. Turkey had to resist drifting off into the world of epic romances such as the _Titanic_. This was just too perfect.

In a refined manner, England held his chin high and carefully explained their dilemma. "We can't exactly explain to you why we need to get in there, but just know that it is important," he said, finishing his speech. The blonde continued to give in an unimpressed stare. Grinning with confidence, he outstretched a comforting hand. "So . . . will you help us?"

She glared down at it. With the way her thin lips were drawn, it was almost certain that she would say no. But instead, she rolled her eyes and painfully locked it with hers. "Just this once."

Finally, with one last encouragement from Belgium, Belarus was escorted back to the bar. The whole hike she was grumbling, arms crossed over her chest, and sulking about her predicament. Neither of the men had the guts to voice their unanimous opinion: there was no point to being kind if you were just going to complain about it.

"My God, you did it!" France jumped from his spot on the floor with Iceland. His hands were on his cheeks as he rambled, "We didn't think that you would actually be able to do it! How many bones did she break?"

Before anyone could answer, Belarus socked his gut and marched right past him. "Shut it, bastard," she growled, causing everyone else to take a protective step back. "Where the hell is this door anyways?"

Iceland pointed to it. "Right there, Miss. By the way, I have to say that your dress looks stunning on you."

The dress was an elegant, form fitting ball gown with a leg slit nearly reaching her hips. Most of her back was revealed as well as her boobs. The compliment, however, only made her scowl worsen. "Stupid straightie," she muttered. She took a few steps back and ran toward the door. Her heels clicked on the wood floors, only stopping when her fist made contact with the mahogany.

The door lost 150 experience points and broke easily. The men's manliness lost 420. She was able to do that _so easily_. "Thank you so much, Belarus," Turley thanked as she tore away the remaining wood. "This was a great-" She instead opted to just tear the hindrance off its hinges and throw it at the wall behind him. Turkey looked back at it and felt sweat prick his neck. One inch closer and that thing would've hit his face. Forcing the grin to remain on his face, he 'merrily' continued, "This was a great help for us, Belarus. If you can return to your girlfriend now-"

"Not just yet." The smile and joyful visage disappeared completely as she glared at them, saying, "I want to see what has your panties all tight in a bunch."

England lunged forward. "Don't-" But it was already too late, she was running down the stairs and into the bar. Seconds after her blond locks disappeared into the dark depths, her shrill shriek sounded through the air.

No one wasted anymore time.

France, Turkey, Iceland, and France rushed as fast as they could down the bar steps. Their anxiety made the short journey last for hours, but when they entered the dimly lit bar, even they had to resist screaming.

Belarus stood stock still, staring at the table a yard away from it. To spare everyone from the disgusting description, I'll explain this as simply as I can: Liechtenstein, Italy, previously getting it on but now looking very shocked and embarrassed. Luckily, they were still dressed.

"The fuck?!"

As the men quickly slapped their hands over their eyes, cursing their luck. Never in their lives did they want to witness raw straightness. Belarus, meanwhile, pressed her lips and marched over to the other girl. "Liechtenstein, you will back away _now_," she ordered, marching up to Italy. The girl did what she was told and jumped back. In a single moment, Belarus had his body thrown over her shoulder, saying, "You and I need to have some private time to chat about what you can and cannot do with my Liechtenstein."

Said girl straightened her ruffled hair and stretched a hand towards her. "Wait Belarus! Don't-" When she continued to march past the rest of the crowd and up the stairs, the girl quickly fixed the wrinkles of her dress and started to chase after them. "It's not his fault, it's-"

"Whoa, hold it." England placed two hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "What in the world is going on?" he demanded, fixing the stray strands of her hair. "

Her white cheeks turned a deep shade of red. Averting her gaze, she stared at her feet as she explained, "I'm not sure. Seychelles just told me to trying dating him and one thing led to another . . . please don't tell my brother! He'll wring Italy's neck!"

France took a step forward and wrapped a sure arm around her frame. "We promise to keep this as quiet as possible," he said. "Though I highly doubt that Belarus would do the same. So if you wouldn't mind . . ."

She curtly nodded and started to make her way to the stairs. "Hold it." Reluctantly, she paused. Turkey glared at her small back, suspecting the worse as he asked "Was this room empty when you came in here?" She nodded, still not looking at him. "Was there any evidence of anyone being in here before you?"

"No."

He sighed, forcing himself to think positively. He knew that this girl was not Himaruya, but his thoughts were wandering. Secretly, he wanted it to be her, that way he would be a step closer to defeating the jackass. Slowly, he said, "Last question: have you seen either Estonia or Seychelles today?"

"I haven't." His shoulder dropped as a defeated breath left all their lungs. What now? "But now that I think about it, I did see something weird."

All of their eyes fixed on her. Iceland was on the edge of his seat, attentively nodding as he urged, "Well what is it?"

This time, Liechtenstein faced them with a blank face. It was obvious that she did not know the significance of her own words when she said, "Every time I passed by the windows today, I noticed that there was someone up in the bell tower. I don't know who, but they never left."

Turkey's honey eyes went as wide as they could. "Of course," he breathed, seeing everything clicked. "I would never suspect . . . and it does have significance to him since I . . . "He loudly smacked his forehead. "We need to get to the bell tower," he said. "Himaruya has to be there. Liechtenstein, you can go break Belarus and Italy up."

"How do you know for sure?" England asked, watching the girl leave at last. "For all we know, all of this can be just a trap to keep us in circles."

France nodded. "Yes and how do we know that the person was even him?"

Turkey opened his mouth, ready to give the answer when Iceland cut him off. "It's quite simple really," he said. "You just need to think about it. The clock tower would actually be the ideal place for him to hide. It's intimidating while staying far away from the other students. Plus it's the spot where Pops ki-"

Turkey slapped a hand over his mouth. "That's enough of that," he ordered before lifting the man into his arms. Being carefully not to hurt him, he started for the stairs. "Come on, it's nearly eleven o'clock." France and England exchanged one last glance before following after him.

Once the view of the hallway's large windows met him, the Turk took a deep breath and started running. Again, his companions were far behind him, yelling out curses and demanding that he slowed down but he paid little heed. The idea of being so close to the prize made his legs move even faster. They ran up a staircase and down countless hallways, slowly getting closer and closer to their goal.

"Hey!" Iceland tugged on his shirt, saying, "Slow down for them, would ya?"

At last, Turkey unhappily rolled his eyes and slowed to a stop. He tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for France and England to catch up. When they did, the Nordic had to tap him again and remind him to stay still. The taller blond's face was flushed, but not as red as his boyfriend's as he said, "My God, can you slow down for a second? You'll tire yourself out before we even get started!"

"But we don't have much time to waste!" He replied hotly. "We have until midnight or else-"

"France!" England screamed as a foot made painful contact with his back. As he fell, the Frenchman swooped in and caught his shoulders. His blue eyes glared up at the attacker. His lips twitched when Germany met his stare equally. He was wearing a prom suit, but the buttons were mixed matched and his hair was slightly uneven.

"What are you doing, Germany?" he demanded, trying hard not to portray the hatred he truly felt.

Turkey felt his back straighten. There was a look in the newcomer's eyes; one of deep, unquenchable emotions. He may not have been able to pinpoint exactly _what _they were- lust, greed, wrath, envy -but they were uncontrollable . . . like Himaruya's. "France, run!" The brunette screamed, realizing what was going on. "Germany can't control himself! Get out of there!"

The moment he finished speaking, Germany went in for another blow. France wrapped a protective arm around his boyfriend and shoved him behind himself. He took the blow for him, gasping when the jab met his chest. "Stupid frog!" England yelled, worriedly looking over his stressed face. "Why the hell did you-"

The blond grinned. "Because I love you and no matter what you may say, I will always be here for you-"

"Dodge it!" Iceland shrieked.

France and England turned with just enough time to note the incoming fist. But they were already at the point of no return: there was no chance of escape. France, once again, tried to keep England behind himself, but the stubborn man was pushing to himself to the front. Turkey made a brash decision and started to run to help. But while he carried Iceland, he could never stop him in time.

The foot was going to hit . . .

"West!" In a second, Prussia had Germany's arms restrained and was holding them high above his head. His white hair brushed over his glaring red eyes as he yelled, "I have no idea what's up with you right now, but it's really not awesome!"

The couple continued a long stare at him, unsure of what was happening. Germany was attacking them and Prussia was going to save them? What? They hadn't even considered leaving until Iceland stuck two fingers in his mouth a released a low whistle. "Let's get going," he urged, much to Turkey's relief. "I'm sure Prussia can handle this!"

"Yeah. Because I'm awesome!"

Adjusting the boy in his arms, the Turk started to run again. His heart felt a little lighter when he heard France and England following up his rear.

* * *

**Cycle 12: Thursday**

At last, the freaking loud bells stopped chiming. "It's eleven o'clock," I said, feeling the ringing they created fade away. It felt as though my eardrums were bleeding, yet Himaruya was standing off to the side as if it was nothing more than a pesky fly. He stood at the edge of the tower, gazing out at the moon like a total emo character. Asshole. I bet that if he ever got any fangirls, they'll be the obsessive ones that everyone hates. Simmering in my hate, I added, "And Sadiq's isn't here yet."

He turned to me, an uncaring look in his eyes. Taking off his glasses, he asked, "And what's your point?"

"Your plan's failing," I said evenly, trying to sound like the cool, fearless badass that I was not. "I thought that Sadiq was supposed try to save me and would fall right into your trap."

Rubbing the lenses with the end of his shirt, he shrugged. "You are forgetting: there is still an hour left. Many things can change within an hour." He held his glasses high in the air and peered through the glass. "And besides, I did give him a few obstacles to go through," he said casually. It sent goose bumps up my legs. "But if I am right, he should be arriving in three, two-"

"Sherry!" My eyes went wide and my heart stopped. Sadiq . . . he was coming. Joy flooded my heart. He was actually coming to save me. I frowned. But this was a trap. He had to leave me behind. But even if he left me behind, there could be nothing he could do to break the contract. Either way he was going to lose.

He should lose in the less humiliating way.

I opened my mouth, ready to scream for him to go away when something gagged me. Choking, I looked down the best I could to see a white rag tied tightly around my mouth. When did that get there? Himaruya smirked as I started to scream muffles. "Let's be quiet now, Sherry," he mischievously said, placing his glasses back on his nose. "We wouldn't want you to ruin the surprise."

He disappeared suddenly. For a moment, I struggled against my handcuffs, hoping and praying to break free. But I stopped when I saw Sadiq's glorious being pop through the trapdoor. He was carrying Ari (who had this massive bandage on his head) and was amazingly trailed by France and England.

The moment they saw me, a series of reactions occurred. Ari's face lit up and he exclaimed my name. France and England turned and hugged each other, happy that their daughter was okay. Sadiq, however became wide eyed. Gently, he placed Ari on the ground before sprinting over to me. "Sherry!" He knelt in front of me and started to pull off my gag. His concern was the only thing possible of calming my wrecked nerves. "My God, are you alright? Are you hurt? Where's Himaruya?"

My mouth was free. "Get out of here!" I shrieked; panic surging through me like the blood in my veins. They stared at me. "All of you! It's a trap-"

"Did I not tell you to not ruin the surprise?" My savior was suddenly yanked away from me. Thrown to the ground a few feet away, he laid on his back as Himaruya pinned his chest with his foot. Our onlookers started to move towards him, but the creator held up a hand. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned. "After all, you wouldn't want your cute little daughter to be hurt now, would we?" They were forced to bite their lips and stop.

"Why are you doing this?" Ari demanded fiercely. "Why is any of this necessary?"

The blonde frowned. I felt immediate fear for my old lover. He was rebelling against the equivalent of an Egyptian god who could kill him with just the snap of the fingers. "I have a bet to win," he growled. "And I suggest that you all leave before I force you to."

France took a step forward. "Estonia, will you please just stop?" he pleaded, patting the air with his hands. "I know that you're a good boy with a good heart."

"Just stop." For a moment, I did not even believe that Sadiq was the one to say it. But sure enough, there was a defeated look in his eyes and a sad frown on his face. "Can't you guys see: he's won," he said. "There is no point in it now."

"No." This time, England was the one to take a step forward. "Hell no. You push our asses around the school, dead on trying to find this guy just to give up so easily? You are a bloody fucking idiot if I ever met one!"

"England, you must not berate him so casually. After all, he is doing the smart thing," Himaruya said as he smirked at the unknowing people. "My contract with him is coming to an end and he knows it. It's perfectly fine for Sadiq to stop giving me trouble and just accept his fate. And I don't blame him. It is-" He looked at his wristwatch and hummed in delight. "Five minute before midnight. There is no point."

This time, I was the one to get pissed. "Five minutes?" I yelled, jerking my arms against the bounds. "It was just eleven o'clock a minute ago!"

The one thing that I loved about Ari is the fact that he catches on very quickly. The minute I finished speaking, he snapped his fingers and pointed an accusing finger. "You changed the time!" He exclaimed.

Our bad guy frowned, figuring that this was not going somewhere nice. "Yes I did. Do you have a point that you are trying to make?"

"Yes. You contract with Pops clearly states that you are not allow to change things in this world to your advantage. I presume that the previous offensives were with justified cause, but not this one. By binding law, you have no right to do that. Therefore Pops, the Republic of Turkey- aka: Sadiq -rightfully deserves compensation."

We all stared at him . . . Did that even work? Was it possible?

Amused, Himaruya laughed. "You are a very interesting person," he said, holding his sides. We all shifted our stares at him. What was he so happy about? "There are, however, a few exceptions to your claim, but since you are so humorous-" Iceland frowned, crinkling his nose. "-I'll just go with it."

My arms were suddenly free. They ached and the lack of restraints caused them to droop to my sides uselessly. I rubbed my shoulders, hissing under my breath. Their gazes were on me and I could feel them prickling on my skin.

Himaruya took his foot off my mentor and approached me. "This will be the compensation: Every man in this area loves this stupid little girl to some degree. But there is one here who's love- the strongest here -is romantic." Looming over me, he seemed to taunted what little courage I had by saying, "If Sherry can figure out who this guy is, kiss him, and get his love confession before the time is up, then Sadiq is free from his contract. If not he's mine. Deal?"

Ari scooted a little closer. "You cannot do anything that will guarantee her failure," he said, a small sneer in his voice. "If you do, Sadiq's contract is immediately void."

The not-Baltic frowned, making a small 'tsk' noise. He growled, "Deal." My heart banged loudly on my chest. Shit, why did all of this pressure have to go onto me? What if I screw up badly? "But to be fair, I will give you a little hint."

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I did not notice the knife before it was in my shoulder. I screamed, crying hot tears as the searing pain tore at my flesh and bone. Oh my God, did he really just stab me? Was that really necessary? Distantly, I heard the onlookers make a lunge for it, but a snap of the fingers reminded them to stay in place. I thought I heard Sadiq grinding his teeth together.

The knife pulled out of me. It was covered by a thick coating of red liquid- my blood. The sight made me even more nauseous. As I tried to hold back my vomit, the pale man swooped into my face. His nose brushed against mine as he whispered, "It's not me." Well fuck- as if _that _was helpful. He stood and took a step to the side, saying, "You have two minutes. Go."

It was hard to move with a shoulder wound. It felt like the worse pain anyone in the world could ever experience. Grunting and crying, I stayed on my knees and dragged myself over to the 'FrUk' and Ari. Both France and England looked horrified and pissed off. They obviously were not happy that their daughter was just stabbed. But they were not my destination- Ari was.

The Icelandic had to wait patiently as I made my way for to him. With each step, it felt as though my skin was slowly tearing further and further apart. Damn it, animes make this look so easy. By the way he pressed his lips together; I knew that he was thinking about something, running a scenario in his head. I moaned, feeling my muscles give way even more. A few feet away from him, I was too tired to move. Thus I outstretched a hand towards him, softly saying, "Ari . . ."

Whatever he was thinking about, it clicked. "Don't choose me!" he yelled. "Choose-"

"No helping her." Like a light switch, Ari's voice flicked off. I would normally have pinned his sudden silence to have been my failing sense and spinning sight, but he was gripping his throat like Ariel, trying to make a sound sing out. Himaruya sounded as though he was smirking when he said, "Let the girl figure it out for herself. You have sixty seconds."

Shit.

France and England took a step forward, immediately rejecting the interference. "That broke the contract," England yelled.

"You can't guarantee her failure," France added.

The ex-Estonian shrugged, saying something about how he didn't. He ignored Ari as he crawled over to me. He fiercely gripped my shoulder and mouthed words to me. I, unfortunately, did not read lips very well and had no idea what he was saying. A few times, he pointed to the area behind me, but I didn't understand why.

My brain was on overload. Not only was I constantly aware of the warm blood seeping through my shirt, but it was trying to figure out what to do now. Ari was the one who loved me romantically. But he can't confess his love to me if he could not speak. "_But that's against the rules," _I thought. "_He should have lost his deal." _But Himaruya would never do something that would endanger his chances of losing Sadiq. So there was someone else who loved me more than Iceland. But who? France and England loved Seychelles but they were still together. Sadiq loved me as a daughter.

Who was it?

I suddenly remembered earlier: Himaruya's side of the story. _"I will make this very simple for you,"_ he had said._ "Sadiq is a rather attractive man and as an array of lovers. This includes Poland, Switzerland, Seychelles, you and me." _

He included himself, but Sadiq hates him . . .

. . . The feelings could be one sided.

"Shit, I father zoned Sadiq," I realized, barely able to contain my shock. Lucky for me, the older men were still fighting over the contract and paid me any heed. Ari did. He fiercely nodded and pointed behind me again. Sadiq was behind me- Ari had realized it before me.

I quickly embraced him, maybe for the last time, and started the quickest crawl possible for the man. He was still lying on the ground. His limbs haven't even moved. I swiftly excused it as some invisible force-like restrain before leaning over him. Sadiq opened his eyes and looked up at me. "What are you doing over here?" he asked, a small sigh in his voice. A small chuckle escaped his lips. "I'm-."

I gripped his shirt tightly. More blood spilled and trickled down my arm and onto his shirt. It made me feel even sicker. "Just shut up," I said. Suddenly, I noticed that everything was quiet. The arguing had stopped. I could feel Himaruya's presence behind me. I took a deep breath and quickly leaned in.

And I kissed him

.

.

.

Before all you anti-OC fangirls start flipping out on me, I need to just say one thing: it was awkward. Yes, it did feel awesome, as if his lips were perfectly matched for mine. But there was something different about them, as if they weren't the ones who faked kissed me. It was so weird. But whatever hesitance the smart side of me felt disappeared when he started kissing me back.

Holy shit, he actually kissed me back.

Why was he kissing me back?

It could be that I was an idiot and that every comforting, caring moment he had with me was a sign of affection. But a small, logical voice in my head pointed out that he was gay. He had a boyfriend. I guess that I could accept the idea of him being bisexual, but that would mean that I wouldn't mind him feeling that way about me in the first place.

The scary thing was that I _didn't _mind at all.

My smart side questioned the logic of me suddenly feeling romantic towards a guy I pinned to be my father. No, that wasn't accurate. He was still my father, but he was also my crush. He's been both for a while now. He . . . I just knew that I cared deeply for him. For some reason, I just could no longer imagine my life without him. I just simply yearned for his presence-father or lover, I didn't care as long as he was there to love me.

I must sound like such a Sue right now.

I was smiling softly when I finally pulled away. I felt tired, maybe from blood loss, but I also felt content. I did it. I saved Sadiq. I looked down at him, waiting for the love confession.

He stared up at me for a long second, lips parted and breath shallow. Numbly, his hand reached up and lovingly cupped my cheek. I placed my hand over his and held it. They were surprisingly cold. "Wrong person."

In a second, I was flipped onto my back with his hand pinning me down by my neck. I wasn't choking, only gasping in pain and feeling dizzier than ever. I coughed, "W-what the-"

Himaruya clapped his hands slowly before snapping his fingers. France, England, and Ari froze, limbs unable to move. But their chests heaved quickly with stress and their worried eyes rested on me. I felt another wave of fear. It was an injured me verses Hima-pops and an evil Sadiq. The odds were not in my favor.

Walking slowly, he smirked and continued his applause, saying, "You are easier to trick than I originally expected. All of you are."

I looked up at Sadiq. He stared down at me blankly. At that moment, I hated him more than anything in the world. Still, I had to push my hate aside to ask, "W-what do you mean?"

"If you haven't guessed by now- that is not the real Sadiq." He turned to the boys. "In fact, this whole time he's been a fraud," he proclaimed a small laugh in his voice. "And you all have been too stupid to realize it."

Knowing that it wasn't him made me feel a little better- embarrassed, but better. And pissed. I was very pissed. "Where's the real Sadiq?" I growled loudly. I regretted it when my vision started to spin. Damn blood loss, why now? I was trying to make a fierce impression!

Another snap of the fingers. Fake-Sadiq picked me up and brought me closer to the edge. "The real one is waiting in my domain," Himaruya said. "Praying that his precious girl will save him from his fate. But-" In some form of irony, the double held me over the side of the tower by the back of my collar. This time, even though my feet were support by thin air, I did not scream. "-it's practically midnight."

No one screamed my name and rush to the edge to see my splattered body. No, one second I was hanging there and the next I was falling through the air. The cold air made my limbs feel even more stiff. The dark, moonlit ground below me drew rapidly closer. I could imagine the large splatter my body would make on the pavements. More fear seized me.

I closed my eyes and released a long screamed.

"Got ya!" I first heard his voice. Then I realized that I was no longer falling. Slowly, I peeked my eyes open. Switzerland of all people had his upper half out the window and a hand around mine. I gaped- what was he doing here? "Shit, you're heavy," he grunted, trying to lift me up. When I barely rose three inches, he sighed and turned back into the building, yelling, "Poland! Get your lazy ass over here to help me!"

A quick, "totally bro" respond before two arms clothes in pink wrapped around his waist. I was speechless as they started to pull me up. I was starting to feel sleepy. The edges of my vision were a fuzzy black. "Don't let go," Switzerland ordered as I was lifted higher. "Let go and you fall. Understand?"

I nodded. My eyes were starting to feel heavy. My head was lighter than air.

There was a soft mumbling in the background. As I fought away sleep, the mumbling grew louder until it was a scream into my ear. "Seychelles! Do you understand?"

By then, I couldn't comprehend anything. Most of my vision was black. Against my control, my muscles loosened and my fingers unwrapped from his hand. His hold was lost and I was falling again.

I swore that I heard the midnight bells when I hit the ground.

* * *

**MW: **Well, we really can't talk about this due to spoilers. So-  
**MK: **We are going to talk about the sequel Blue and Sisko mentioned way back.  
**MW: **But-  
**MK: **You've waited long enough.  
**MW: ***sigh* Fine.  
As we all know, I meant for this to be a series. Or at least when my dear colleagues revealed the fact it was. The original sequel idea that I was working on at the time excluded Sherry and Sadiq from the entire plot. However, those two have someone managed to wiggle their way back in as main characters.  
So here is my dilemma- since Sherry is still a focus and main character, do you guys just want me to make this one really big fic or a trilogy as originally planned.  
The upside is that people would not have to go around searching for each part.  
The downside- as SEK says -is that people might be intimidated by a very long fic. But here in the anime section of fanfiction, people often perceive long fics as being the good ones.  
Another downfall is that since I had planned for this to be three separate stories, the plot builds, climaxes, and falls three separate times. I can, of course, excuse this as being a "Part one, Part Two" situation and no one will have to worry.  
The bad thing is that the setting for what is supposed to be the second installment changes drastically as well as many of the familiar characters, relationships, and quirks we see right now. They all come together for the last act, but that will still leave a big gap of their absence.

So it's your choice- yes to one fic or a trilogy one one. Voting is in the poll on my profile, though feel free to review with your thoughts. Even with your opinions, I might decide in the end that one way is better than another and just go with it. I'll keep ya'll updated.  
And remember to review!

**Funfacts **

"Little Lion Man" Sadiq's theme song.

"Frost Iron fic!" For those who are not Avengers fans, Frost Iron (or Iron Frost) is the fan term for Loki X Tony Stark.

"You are easier to trick than I originally expected." Proof that Sherry X Sadiq is not canon.

**Next Chapter: **The end is upon us as Sadiq and Sherry make one last struggle for his soul.

****Review because you guys are awesome and awesome people review!****


	14. A Kiss With Death

**MW: **Four score and seven years ago, we posted a chapter-

**SEK: **It's only been three weeks.

**MW: **-Yet so much has changed during that time.

**BFTL: **Stop stalling and tell them what happened.

**MW: ***sigh* You guys never let me have any fun. Alright, so for a while now, I have been running a tumblr blog that specializes on critiquing (not hating) the human OCs of Hetalia. There I was, having so much joy in helping others when I was forced to reveal myself. Yeah, so in order to avoid the personal questions (because, apparently, tumblr really likes this story) I got a personal blog.

So on there, I will be answering general questions about myself and my stories. I hope to start using it as a way to keep you guys updated on the progress of my work so that when another four score and seven years happen, you guys wouldn't be left in the dark about what's going on.

Although the links are in my profile, my personal blog is midnaswolftheawesome and my critique blog is thehetaliahumanoc. (Please keep the personal questions off the critique one).

Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for over 170 reviews and 61 follows. Information about the result of the sequel debate and the rest of this story is in the second author's note.

**Chapter Summary: **The final struggle for Sadiq soul commences, but will everyone make it out in one piece?

**Warnings: **Strong Language, Sexual References, Violence including blood and death, Yaoi, mentions of Yuri.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but your souls.

* * *

**~Chapter 14~****  
****A Kiss With Death**

"_In a battle all you need to make you fight is a little hot blood and the knowledge that it's more dangerous to lose than to win."_

**-George Bernard Shaw, Irish Playwright**

* * *

**Cycle 12: The Room**

It was very strange. One moment, Turkey is sitting on a grassy hill, watching the dandelions disperse their seeds in the wind- how fragile they were. Then it was suddenly all gone. The blue sky turned white, the wind died, and the grass beneath him faded into a white chair. He dropped the plant he was holding before it disappeared and snapped his head in every direction

The scenery was gone- Himaruya had to be back.

"What's going on?" The nation demanded, rising to his feet. His eyes glared up at the ceiling, daring him to join him in person. "What happened? How much time is left in the cycle?"  
For a few moments, there was nothing but a dead silence. He stood still, quieting his breaths. Gravity felt heavier, oxygen was harder to breathe. Turkey wanted to- but couldn't- scream away all of his worries. Just scream and demand to know what was going on. What happened to Sherry? Did she do it? Was everyone safe?

Himaruya's cold hand appeared. It cupped his cheek as the creator stood behind, safe from any violent response. It smirked when he notice the white clothes shiver along with the man's back. How pitiful.

Bluntly, without any sign of triumph, it gave the news. "You lost Sadiq." Turkey's eyes went wide and his knees buckled together. As hard as he tried, the nation could not help but to fall unto his knees, staring at the ground in shock. It actually happened- he lost. "Your soul now belongs to me." Himaruya declared, moving his hand onto the top of his head. "It's a shame, isn't it? After all the trouble you went  
through-"

"Where's Sherry?" Himaruya raised an eyebrow. Did his Sadiq just growl at him? That was not right- he should still be in shock. Did the thought of that human really snap him back to his senses that quickly? As he thought about it, Turkey turned and glared at him with a fiery look, saying, "I said: where is Sherry? What happened to her?"

"She is free to go," it replied easily. "I have no use for her anymore. She's back in her own universe, enjoying her restored freedom." A flash of relief overcame the Turk. She was safe- millions of miles away from this mess. All was good. Yet, he still found himself frowning. She was safe, but he wouldn't be there to make sure it stayed that way.

The blond observing him sighed and squatted down to his height. "Don't be so down Sadiq," it said, placing a finger in each end of his mouth. "It's not all that bad." It forced his lips to curl upward. "You will forget about her eventually."

"I won't." Turkey slapped its hands away, sneering, "I promised her that I wouldn't be a coward anymore; that I will not give into your games. Even if I may be stuck here with you forever, I will never forget my reason to fight back."

Himaruya roughly grabbed Turkey's chin. He gasped. Since when was the creator so willing to hurt him? Its eyes were dark as they stared through him. Thin lips in a line, it leaned in closer. "I would be careful what you say now, Sadiq," It unmercifully spat. "I wouldn't want to anger the person I will spend the rest of existence with."

"Like I give a damn, jackass."

It threw him away, letting him skid a few feet on the slick floors. Returning to full height, the regal figure made a displeased noise. "If you think that by making me hate you would solve all your problems, you are quite wrong. A bitter man is far more dangerous than a love struck one."

Turkey pealed his face from the floor. His lip was split and a small trickle of blood dyed his teeth red. He grinned at it, showing the gruesome sight off proudly. "How can you say that you love someone when you constantly cause them pain?"

It smirked. "I was just about to ask you the exact same thing, Sadiq." He frowned. "You are one of the biggest hypocrites I know," it continued, waving a lazy hand before walking away. "Stop trying to be the person you aren't- the victim. You are as guilty here as I am. We both might as well enjoy our stay in this prison."

The brunette looked down, bundling the legs of his pants in his clenched hands. It was right- why did it have to be right? He defeatedly closed his eyes. "_I guess I really am stuck here."_

Then he remembered.

His eyes snapped open as his hands went to his pockets. It was gone? Did Himaruya take it? That didn't make sense. The only reason why it wouldn't be here was if someone . . .

All the color in Turkey's face drained. Sherry was the only one with opportunity and motive. She was still here, still in danger. He buried his face in his palms. Why did she always have to make things so difficult for him?

Turkey didn't notice Himaruya's knowing smirk.

* * *

**Cycle 12: The Void**

I screamed. The blackness of the void absorbed my voice, making my distress muffle around my ears. My suffocated heart banged against the prison of my rib cage. I felt as though I could not breathe. Something in my head reminded me that the black surroundings were safe- I was safe. I stopped screaming and focused on my breathing. In and out and in and out and in . . .

"Sherry!" Seychelles was in front of me. She's been there for a while, yelling at me to calm down. Why I didn't see her before, I didn't know. I just concentrated on my breaths as she spoke. "Calm down!" she demanded, clutching my shoulders. "We're going to achieve nothing by screaming!" Her look turned condescending when I continued hyperventilating. She slapped me. "Pull yourself together, woman!"

I gasped, feeling the red sting on my cheek. I stood there, feeling my head clear of some panic. The cogs in my brain were dusted of cobwebs and they slowly started to turn. I wasn't dead. I was in the void.

Sadiq and I lost.

"Where's Sadiq?" I demanded, remembering everything that had happened. "Where's Himaruya?" Seychelles frowned. I felt ready to grab her shoulders and shake her senseless, or at least until tells me what's going to happen next. "Well?"

She shook her head, bit her lips, and observed her feet. "I don't know where any of them are," the African said, allowing her bangs to fall over her eyes. "All I know is that I should be going back to my body, but I'm still here."

"Well do you at least know why I'm still here?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair. Or at least I tried to; they constantly stopped on a thick knot of orange hair. I resisted a sigh. I was so used to Seychelles's body- how was I supposed to be content with this one?

Seychelles's arms slapped her sides in defeat. "I don't know! That thing said that he would get rid of you the first chance he got."

I grimaced. "You seem kind of disappointed."

"Of course I am." I winced. What the hell, Seychelles? I thought that you are supposed to be a cute, kind and fun-loving little girl! Why are you acting so out of character? "You've caused enough trouble as it is," she spat, curling her lip. "I just wish that you'd get out of here and leave the people who actually belong here alone."

If I applied my new empathy skills with her, then I should be able to figure out why. . . Oh. I get it. The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "You're jealous of me and Sadiq."

_Slap_!

"You are the biggest jerk I've ever met!" The girl yelled, looking ready to strike me again. For a second time, I rubbed my cheek. After dying- what? - five or so times, I truthfully just don't give a fuck about pain anymore. Or (at least) for this moment. I bet the second I see the light of day again, I would be back to being dead afraid of knives, Clorox bleach, and just anything else that could possibly end my life.

I frowned. _"Sadiq probably wants to die right now,"_ I thought grimly. "_He probably thinks that death is better than an eternity with Himaruya." _I shook my head. No, bad imagination! Stop thinking like that! You're only going to make yourself feel even worse. I paused.

It was my fault- everything. If only I stopped and listened to him sooner. I dug my hands into my pajama pants pockets. Then maybe this would have turned out better. . .

I froze. Did my lucky purple puppy pattern PJs just give me a blessing? My fingers brushed over the cool metal again. Yes they did. I carefully wrapped my hand around it and pulled it out for the world to see. It was the Sadiq's pocket watch. My mouth unhinged itself as I stared down at the gold mirror-like surface. "What is this doing here?" I whispered, more to myself than to Seychelles. That didn't matter- she was paying me no heed and just continued to sulk in her own little piece of blackness. I turned it over in my hands. It seemed so small. . .

My blue eyes went wide. They stared at the slim gold chain. It was levitating slightly, the end pointing a little to the left. There is no way that a floating chain was natural. Why was it doing that? Maybe it was possessed.

"It's his shackle." I looked up at Seychelles. Her hands still crossed over her chest. The girl's narrow eyes looked at me without respite. When I gave a questioning sound in reply, she groaned, "Idiot. Turkey said so himself that the watch was his shackle and the chain was somehow connected to his wrist. Remember?"

I did. I looked down at the chain and adjusted my position until it was completely straight. Then, using it as a compass, I started to walk. With this, I will find Sadiq.

At first, I was so bent about making sure I was going in the right direction that I did not notice Seychelles calling for me to stop. Actually, I wasn't even aware that she was following me until her hand jerked my shoulder back. "Where are you going?" She demanded as she forced me to look at her.

I released an annoyed breath. "You said that the chain connects to Sadiq," I snapped. "So obviously it'll lead me to where he is." I started to walk off again.

Again, she held me back. "But we're the only ones here!"

"And how do you know that?"

"What do you think I do when you're not here?" the African demanded, smoothing out the ends of her pony tails. Her cheeks were tinted red with frustration as she tightened the ribbons as well. "I walk around trying to find an end. And you want to know something? There is none!"

I shook my head. "I don't care!" I yelled, feeling a headache thump against my skull. I really wish that I could just strangle her. _"Just because she annoys me does not mean that I get to kill her,"_ A sane part of me answered. Correction- the part of me that learned her lesson and knows not to mess with fandoms. Shaking that voice out of my head, I continued. "Sadiq would risk his life to save one of us! What kind of a person would I be to abandon him when he would do something like that for me?"

Seychelles's voice immediately topped mine in strength and volume. "Himaruya is going to kill you!"

I waved her off and started marching in the direction towards Sadiq. "At least I would have died the way I lived- screwing life over with fictional characters." I took a few more steps. The urge was too great for me to resist adding, "Go stay on the side lines Seychelles while people like me actually do something right for once." The nation glared at my back a few seconds, cursed her conscience, and quickly followed after me.

The void seemed emptier. For a long time, Seychelles and I were Hansel and Gretel in the dark, scary woods. Our bread crumbs were a golden chain and the ginger bread house was Sadiq. The witch would be waiting there, waiting to eat us but we didn't care. Or at least I didn't. The price of seeing Sadiq again would be well worth the pain.

Every now and then, we had to adjust our trail in order to align with the chain. When that happened, Seychelles would give me a worried glance. What if we were going in circles? What if we were going to be stuck in this place forever? Every time, I shrugged and silently challenged her to back away.

Every time she chose to stay.

It wasn't until the watch told us that we had been traveling for thirty minutes did something change. Seychelles grabbed my arm and pointed to an area a few yards away. I trailed her gaze and saw a small speck of white. "I'm not imagining that now, am I?" she asked, squinting for a better look.

I shook my head. "No, I see it too." I glanced down at our guide. "The chain is pointing towards it," I said. A small smile appeared on my face. "I bet my fanart that's where Sadiq is."

Her eyebrows knitted together. "Your what?"

I ignored her and gripped the watched tighter. "Never mind," I growled before breaking into a jog. "Let's just get going."

My crap, I felt fat. After spending some much time in a supermodel's body, my normal one just didn't cut it. My legs felt weighted as I tried to keep my reasonably quick pace consistent. A frown always appeared on my face every time I saw Seychelles just a few paces ahead of me. She looked as though she was barely trying. Yup, just another walk in the park for the African Islands. As my feet continued to feel heavier and heavier, I quietly vowed that I will start hitting the gym once this is all over. _"If only I had a love struck German to run away from,"_ I mourned. _"Evading Germany is the best workout ever."_

A sharp whistle rang through the air. "Hey Sherry." I snapped my attention back to the task on hand. Seychelles had slowed her pace to a quick walk as she pointed at the white speck. It was much closer, maybe a football field's length away, and had a more refined shape. Seychelles's eyebrows pressed together as she asked, "Doesn't that look like a square?"

I squinted and copied her pace. I tried not be show my relief when I found that I could just walk. "Yeah it does," I replied calmly. "What do you think it is? A TV?"

The girl rubbed her sweaty hands over her blue dress. "I don't think so." She stared at it for a moment longer. "Actually, I think it's a window."

"A window?"

A shrug. "Yeah." We were silent as we walked the last few yards towards it. When we were there, I understood what she meant. It was a white box in the middle of the darkness, blazing like a TV at midnight. Timidly, I took a step forward. I was a foot shy of being able to peek my face through- even on my tippy toes. I scowled and placed a hand in front of me.

I gasped, feeling the smooth surface on my skin. The darkness had ended. "There's a wall here," I whispered, fearing who or what could hear me. Seychelles appeared at my side. As she experimented with the newfound boundary, I looked between her and the window. She was slightly taller than me, but not tall enough to get a good look through. She was, however, considerably lighter. My scowl deepened. Damn it, did I have to? _"Do you want to see Sadiq again?"_ The little voice in my head asked. I sighed. Damn that thing. Remind me to hire a therapist when I go home to help me get rid of that nuisance.

Reluctantly, I went onto my hands and knees, softly ordering, "Seychelles, stand on my back and tell me what's in there."

She gave me a confused look. "Are you sure?"

I wanted to groan. "Do I look happy doing this?"

Seychelles's shoulders fell. "I guess you're right," she said as she gently placed a foot on my back. I winced as she added the rest of her weight. She may be lighter than me, but she was still heavy. "I'm sorry," she whispered, peeking into the light. "Tell me if I hurt you."

A low groan rumbled up my throat. You know, if the person on the other side heard any of this, they would probably be having some very dirty thoughts right now. Oh my God.

The image of Seychelles and I as a yuri pairing popped into my head. I gagged, causing said girl to sway and grabbed the hole's edge for support. What would you call that pairing anyways? 'SeySher'?  
And watch, everyone is going to start shipping it. . .

"Sherry, did you even hear what I just said?" I snapped back to reality with enough time to shake my head. Seychelles looked through the window again, reporting, "Turkey's in here, and-"

"Sherry?" Every ounce of my body turned into ice. Sadiq . . . he was here. A stupid grin stretched across my face. Oh my God, Sadiq's here! It was one thing to know the fact and another to see (hear?) the evidence. But even with my bubbling happiness, I could not gather the will to greet him in reply.

All I knew was that I was afraid. Was I afraid of him not liking my normal self? But speaking to him would only be using my voice. . .

Something came and blocked the majority of the white light. I looked back up and saw that Sadiq was at the window, his arm squeezed through and his hand on Seychelles's cheek. "Are you alright, Sherry?" he asked, unaware that it wasn't me. "What happened?" Seychelles looked down at me- blushing -eyes pleading for me to speak up and rid her of this awkward situation. If my arms were free, I would have shrugged. Yeah, I would be perfectly content with him never seeing me, but since I have to save the girl with the major crush . . .

Before I could speak, Sadiq's relieved tone changed drastically. "Sherry, I need you to get out of here," he said urgently, hand forcing Seychelles to look him in the eye. I could imagine them blazing with the fearful fire he seemed to always harbor. "I know that you used that stupid watch to get here. Just get rid of it, go back to your own world, and forget about me, okay? If you don't, that jackass will-"

"Do we have a guest, Sadiq?"

I saw Sadiq's arm tense into rigid stone.

Seychelles's eyes stared straight ahead with fear.

I felt my own blood run cold.

In a playful tone that sent shivers running up my back, Himaruya asked, "Aren't you going to let them in?"

I barely heard Sadiq give a weak 'no'.

"But it's rude to keep visitors outside," He easily replied. "If you don't want them to leave, I suggest you open the door and let them in." None of us replied. I held my breath, a task easier said than done. My back was already aching from supporting Seychelles. For what felt like a millennium, everything was silent. Then, "If you aren't going to let them in, I will."

Another flash of fear shot through me. All of my senses were on alert, and I needed to escape and fast. Seychelles had a similar thought. She jumped off of me and starting running. I sat up and quickly stretched my back. I could hear my bones creak in protest. Still, I wouldn't have been able to move fast enough if they were in knots. Just as I was scrambling to get back onto my feet, the door was starting to open.

I could never run away fast enough. Instead, I opted to press myself against the nearby wall and pray that Himaruya didn't turn to look at me. The boisterous pounding of my heart made me deaf. Sweating a waterfall, I stuck the watch back into my pocket and shakingly looked at the man as he stepped a little outside. The bright light of the room shadowed his face, making him resemble a phantom. I held my breath. The creator scanned the world directly in front of him, eyes eventually resting on Seychelles.

She was close enough that they could still see each other clearly, but still far enough away that it would be troublesome to follow after her. I saw Himaruya smile as he shook his head. "I was wondering what you were doing here, Seychelles," he called. Said nation froze and stared like a deer in headlights. "After all, you are a smart girl. Unlike Miss Sue here."

I gasped, suddenly feeling his hand on the collar of my white tank. I yelped when he dragged me from my hiding place and into the open. I stumbled a few paces and closed my eyes at the blinding light. I shivered when I felt his breath on my face as he held me close for examination. I hated it- he could scrutinize me but I couldn't even glance at him.

I swear to God, he planned this.

Trembling, I held his arm for support as he gave a thoughtful 'hm'. "This is very surprising," Himaruya said, sounding like a fan who already knew the spoiler. I gulped and gained the courage to peek my eyes open. I still winced at the bright light, but now I could see his sickly pleased face. My stomach sank deeper into my legs. "You resemble someone that we used to know."

His silence was a cue for me to speak. Digging my nails into his flesh, I glared at him, spitting, "Resemble who?"

He treated my rebellion like nothing more than a mere fly. "Ask Sadiq." I was shoved (more like thrown) into the room. I had to resist completely shielding my eyes. A bright, glossy white covered everything in the room: The walls, the ceiling, everything. I chose to keep my head down- Maybe then it wouldn't be half as embarrassing as it already was.

I stared at the ground and saw my reflection. I looked horrible. My tank top was messed up from the harsh treatment and my hair was all over the place. Immediately, I started smoothing down the locks, begging them to be tame. It wasn't until I saw the tips of a pair of white shoes did I remember Sadiq.

"Sherry?" He stood a few feet away, reflection showing a stock still man. He was staring at me with wide eyes, softly muttering my name. He couldn't see my face very well- my hair acted as a shield and ruined my reflection. I swallowed. I needed to look at him. I needed to see his smirk and know that everything was going to be alright. I needed to know that we were going to making it through together. With my courage in hand, I slowly forced my head up.

It was the single most awkward moment in my life.

Minus the split lip, Sadiq looked healthy though slightly uncomfortable in his stiff white clothes. His hands shook ever so slightly as his eyes stared straight at my face. They were wider than ever. I stood there, unsure of what to do or say. I bit my lip. I told him how I looked like- he should know how awful I appeared.

My lip was spared when he took a small step forward. Then another. Suddenly, Sadiq was right in my personal bubble. His calloused hand cupped my cheek as the other one ran through my hair before resting on my shoulder. "Agatha?" he whispered, his honey eyes shining with disbelief. "But that's- you're so young . . ." A weak but cheerful laugh left his mouth. "Oh God, you're so young!"

He pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms into a suffocating grip. I knitted my eye brows. Agatha? Agatha was my middle name. Why was he calling me that? The thought left me when I realized that Sadiq was actually hugging me and petting my hair and muttering with fond relief about finding this Agatha person again.

My face flushed. He was acting like a lovesick puppy.

My hands turned into tight fists. As much as I was enjoying this, I had to tell him that I was not this fantasy girl of his dreams or whatever she was. Taking one last Sadiq filled breath (the air around him tasted like apples), I asked, "Sadiq, who the hell are you talking about?" I felt his body tense. Great, now I felt bad. I gently pushed him away, saying, "In case you have forgotten, my name is Sherry. Sherry Sue. The girl you have so much fun abusing. Remember?"

Sadiq was silent for a long moment. His gaze filled with disappointment, but he was quick to cover it up. "I was just testing you," he declared, rubbing his hand on my head. His forced smirk did not falter when my locks wrapped around his digits like a snake. He carefully untangled them, saying, "It wouldn't have surprised me if that jackass made a fake Ag- you or something." I gave him a suspicious look. His smirk was reinforced.

Why was he trying so hard to hide this Agatha from me?

A slow clapping filled the air around us. Sadiq's face fell as his back tensed. I turned around to see Himaruya smirking as he mockingly applauded. A sharp intake of air filled my lungs when I realized that he was slowly walked towards me. The Turk stepped in front of me and protectively hid me behind himself. Beneath my fear, I was thankful.

Himaruya looked ready to kill.

Staring straight at his opponent, my mentor softly ordered, "Sherry, give me the watch." I suddenly felt the extra weight in my pocket. He nudged me again. "Sherry . . ." My throat decided to unclog itself, allowing me to mutter a soft 'no'. He nearly groaned. "Right now isn't the time for this," he said. "It's dangerous and I don't want you to-"

"We started this together," I snapped, recovering from my case of fear caused laryngitis. "And hell, I'm gonna end it with you."

This time, he grabbed my shoulders and faced me. A thoroughly pissed off visage met me as he growled, "Damnit Sherry- we lost. There is nothing either of us can do to stop this. Get out now before it-"

"Before I do something unspeakable." Sadiq's nails dug into my shoulder flesh. I gasped, suddenly remembering the knife wound I had accumulated earlier. It was no longer there, but the pain sharply reminded me of the blade. I looked past my mentor and to the speaker and my attacker. The devious sparkle in his eyes made a dark shadow appear over the upper half of his face.

Sadiq shoved me further back and faced his enemy. "Don't you dare lay a hand on her," he growled, white teeth flashing like fangs. "I swear that if you even think about it-"

"Have you already forgotten my promise?" The other asked. His eyes slicked over me. "I swore that I was going to make _her_ pay for what _you_ did."

His feet shifted, ready for a fight. "And what makes you think that I'll let you go through with that, jackass?"

One instant, I was standing behind Sadiq, feeling safer than I originally thought possible. The next, Sadiq was flying across the room before hitting the farthest wall painfully. He moaned as he slid to the ground like a dead fly on a windshield. I started to screamed. "Sad-"

Himaruya's hands latched around my throat. My voice was replaced by a frog like cough. The pain was terrible- my neck, chest, and head were hurting from either pressure, oxygen loss, or a combination of the two. My wide eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets. I clawed at the creator's arm. The most I hoped for was for him to release me. Realistically, I could only pray for him to at least slacken his grip.

My legs felt dead and I could no longer support myself. I collapsed into the white chair behind me, feeling my head and vision blur. Still, he did not release me. I think I heard Sadiq yelling for Himaruya to release me, but my ears were practically useless. How much longer would it be before I die. . .

"Stop it!" Himaruya loosened his hold before releasing me completely. I hunched over, hand on my throat, coughing and gasping for air. My head slowly sorted everything and my vision became crisp. I could even see the red marks the floor reflection revealed to be on my throat. I looked around the room, trying to figure out what caused the sudden change of mind. He had been so close to killing me.  
Then I saw why.

Seychelles stood directly behind him, hands wrapped around his throat. Unlike him, her eyes were terrified and her hands were pale and clammy. I stared at her, mouth hanging open with amazement. She came back. Seychelles came back to face the guy she was most afraid of. She helped me.

My small bit of delight melted when I saw the rest of the scene. Himaruya was still smirking, still looking as though he had absolute control of everything. Sadiq, pinned to the wall by an invisible force- noticed it too. He pressed his lips together anxiously, expecting the worse. And it happened: Hidekaz laughed.

"My, my Seychelles; I was not expecting such a response from you." He turned, easily brushing her arms away. The smaller girl took a step back, gazing at him with fear. "You are a smart girl; you are well aware of what the consequences of attacking me will be."

When he didn't add anything else, Seychelles took it as a hint to speak. Her eyes darted between the three of us, as if searching for the one safe person. In a voice no louder than a whisper, she said, "I-I know that I sh-shouldn't be. B-but you want to know something?" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She seemed to grow more confident, more sure in her actions when she continued. "Someone really stupid once reminded me that if this was happening to me, they would come in a save me. I guess I'm just returning the favor."

It was like the moment where you are watching a 'FrUk' video on YouTube and you see one of your pieces of fanart. A swell of pride and happiness floods your stomach spreads to your head. You feel as light as a feather and breathing is no longer important. That same sensation mimicked itself when I heard her words. Seychelles actually listened to me. Yeah, she called me stupid but she was heeding my advice. She thinks I'm smart. A small grin stretched on my face.

Himaruya, meanwhile, rolled his eyes. "That is disappointing," he stated. "And here I was, actually thinking about letting you off the hook nicely. But if looks as though that will no longer be an option. You'll simply have to prove yourself to me."

The grip Seychelles had loosened, though she grinded her teeth to cover it up. "What makes you think that I'd want your approval?" She growled, trying to sound fierce.

"I don't." He swiftly slapped her hands away and pivoted on his heels. In one hand, he held her wrist down. A finger on the other one pressed against her forehead, making her eyes grow wide with fear. In a low voice, Himaruya said, "You are my creation. You are in debt to me. There is nothing you can do to disobey me." In a soft, but dangerous voice, he commanded, "Take care of her."

The moment he stepped away, I knew that Seychelles was different. Her eyes looked almost emotionless and her back was stiff like a soldier. She slowly started walking towards me. I pressed myself closer into my chair. When someone orders another to "take care" of someone that usually ends with death. My scared shitless eyes drifted to the door behind her. I could perhaps run outside, have her chase after me, run back inside, and lock her out.

It was crazy, but maybe it was crazy enough to work.

I stole one last glance at Sadiq. Himaruya was at his side, affectionately cupping his cheek, and whispering something inaudible. My mentor looked past him, begging me to stay safe. He winced when Himaruya kissed his jaw line. Ew. Still, I nodded and started my mad dash.

I didn't make it five feet before being pushed onto the ground. My head spun and I cried out in pain. Seychelles straddled my hips before wordlessly wrapping her hands around my neck. For the second time that day, I was strangled.

Choking, I clawed at her arm. A plan tried to formulate itself in my head, but everything was on melt down and most of my thoughts made little sense. I just knew that I needed to get her to snap out of it. But how? Every anime I've ever watched came into mind.

Long monologues. Every anime character makes long impactful monologues.

Worth a shot.

Carefully, I dug my fingers under her hands, forcing her to loosen her grip ever so slightly. It wasn't enough to release me, but I was given access to desperately needed air. "Stop it Seychelles," I whispered, wincing at the pain. "I know that you don't want to do this." Her grip became tighter around my neck. My fingers dug into her skin and my extra oxygen was gone. Eyes nearly shut, I looked up at her vengeful expression. "You saved Germany . . ." I added, barely able to speak. "Y-you saved me . . . save me . . . please. . ." All of my air was gone. My eyes fluttered shut. Still, she did not release me. I wanted to cry. I was going to die here. I was going to die without even seeing my family again. I didn't even get to apologize to Bella. . .

"Seychelles! Wake up!" Sadiq's scream drew me back to reality and made Himaruya lose his concentration.

A second later, Seychelles hands were gone. I took a sudden breath of air and opened my eyes. The girl's eyes were wide with shock as she stared at her hands. Her head moved in a small motion, her ribbons swaying with it. "What did I do?" She muttered, looking like a horrified HetaOni!Italy. "What did I . . ."

I turned my head towards Sadiq and saw a new red mark on his face. Blood spilled down his lip and splattered on his white clothes. He woke her up. But how? Was it because she likes him? Must be- the power love holds in this world is incredible.

Himaruya, meanwhile, had one hand on Sadiq's chest and another pointed at Seychelles. Eyebrows furrowing under his glasses, he growled, "Seychelles, I command you to listen to me and take care of that girl."

She snapped out of her shock. Brown eyes glared at the enemy as she sneered a loud "no". Quickly, she crawled off of me and helped me to my own feet, saying, "You are nothing but a coward, Himaruya. You have others do you dirty work while you go off and stay in safety." She loudly stomped her foot on the ground causing me to jump with surprise. "Don't turn me into the monster you are!"

Himaruya glared back at her with equal amounts of hatred. "Do not paint yourself to be immaculate, Seychelles, you hate Sherry," he spat, taking his attention off of Sadiq. As I rubbed my hands over my sore neck, I noted Sadiq experimentally twitching a finger. "You wanted to hurt her and I was just allowing you to live your fantasy."

"They're not my fantasies," Seychelles snapped. Sadiq flexed both of his hands. He smirked. I smiled.

Neither of them noted us. Himaruya took his hand off of his lover and stood. "The problem is not whether or not they are fantasies. The problem is that not only are you my creation, but you are in debt to me." This time, Seychelles also noticed the brunette as he moved his arm and bent his knees, but she was quick to cover it up. I held a moment of admiration towards her for her ability to keep her brown eyes straight on Himaruya, even as he said, "You have no choice but to listen to me."

I hid my smile when my mentor silently stood, a victorious look gleaming in his eyes. Seychelles smirked and took a step forward, saying, "You and what army?"

Himaruya frowned and took a step forward to meet her. His pale face was right in her brown one. He replied, "I am a god, I am my own army."

This time, I was the one to step forward. It was half the size as theirs, but it was enough to make a point. Playing off the total cocky Tony Stark persona, I said, "We have a Sadiq." Not a second later, said man lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Himaruya's small waist. Seychelles pushed me back just as they crashed to the floor.

For someone so small, the not-Estonian sure did put up one heck of a fight. They were a mass of tangled limbs and growling breaths. They tumbled and hit each other, each trying to gain the upper hand. Behind my back, I crossed my fingers. I prayed for Sadiq to be the victor. I didn't know what I'd do if Himaruya won.

I didn't think anyone did.

The Turk fiercely jammed the heel of his hand into the other man's face. It probably was enough force to break someone's nose. Instead, the square glasses that laid on his nose broke and the glass shards sprayed on the ground.

My fingers were crossed even tighter. "C'mon Sadiq!" I called, feeling my chest pound. I winced when Himaruya flipped on top of him and pressed his back into the glass. Whatever need to be vocally supportive vanished. I guessed that my shouting was distracting him.

Miraculously, Sadiq found the will to grind his teeth and kick Himaruya away. He flew a foot or so before crashing into the white chair. My mentor smirked and scrambled to his feet and wiped the gathered blood off his face. His split lip was torn even more and a large purple bruise was puffing on his cheek bone. He raised his fist, perfectly prepared to pound the small man sprawled over the chair.  
Seychelles grabbed my hand and I held my breath. This was the finishing blow.

Or, at least, it should have been.

Himaruya held his hand out and an invisible force turned gravity against Sadiq. He held still for a moment, but then flew back into the opposite wall. I screamed. It was the same force that held him back earlier and controlled Seychelles. As the bad guy pushed himself off the destroyed piece of furniture, I forgot myself and tried to run to Sadiq. My hand, however, was caught.

I looked down and saw that Seychelles was holding onto me with a death grip. I grabbed her wrist and tried to yank mine away, but it was no use. "What the hell, Seychelles!" I yelled. "Would you let-" Then it hit me. I looked up at her face and saw her staring straight at the chair. Neither her face nor her eyes moved. That stupid force was around her as well.

Shit.

"This is becoming more troublesome than I thought possible," Himaruya commented, nonchalantly, cracking the kinks out of his back. "If I had known that you two would have been so much trouble-"

"Let us go!" I demanded, pulling and yanking at my stuck limb. Damn, her grip was strong. "Just give up and let all of us go!"

He turned to me, raising an eyebrow. The calm expression on his face left my paralyzed. The very thought of moving left me completely when he approached me. "You are a very irritating character, Sherry," he said, voice louder than the loud thumps of his shoes. I gulped. "You are so easy to manipulate, yet so difficult to get rid of." He was right in my personal space. Fear drove me to step back and make myself as small as possible. I gave Sadiq a sideway glance, silently begging him to come save me. By his scrunched nose and growling breath, I would say he heard me.

Cold fingers latched themselves under my chin and forced me to look back at the creator. His blond hair was messed up and his broken glasses were crooked. Everything about his appearance was comical, yet I still found myself shivering in stupefying fear. He sighed whimsically, drawing a finger down my pimple-specked cheek. "There are so many things I would like to do to you, Sherry," he said. "So many ways I would like to enact my revenge. But you want to know the way I chose?" His frigid hand drifted down my side.

A surge of panic overcame me and didn't leave even when it rested over my pocket. "In less than five minutes I can make you regret living. I can make you go through hell and back. Then I'll take that watch and you'll be on your merry broken little way home where you can cry and mourn your disaster. But the worse part will be that you wouldn't be able to tell anyone about it. Because if you did, then you'd be considered crazy."

I took a deep, shaky breath. Breathe Sherry, you can beat this guy. It's just a threat- who said that he would actually go through with it? "That would be very bad for you," I replied softly. Softly, but evenly. "If you did that, you'll have to deal with a pissed off Turk and Seychellois. Probably also an Icelander, Englishman, Frenchie, Liechtensteinian-"

He laughed. "You have gut- I'll give you that. However, have you stopped to wonder that I could possibly kill two birds with one stone?"

My stomach dropped. "How?"

He took the hand off my pocket and cupped both of my cheeks. "Imagine the anguish they will feel. Sadiq and Seychelles are standing right here; they can save you. Yet they will be forced to stand around and do nothing about it."

I felt Seychelles's heart drop. I didn't know how- I could just feel it plunging into her gut. I stole another glance at Sadiq. If glares could kill then he would be a mass murderer. Sadiq . . . "So you want to hurt Sadiq?" I demanded, trying to meet his gaze fiercely. The effect was probably ruined by the strands of orange hair falling over my face. "If you even feel an ounce of compassion for him, you wouldn't want to put him through something like that."

The blond didn't even blink. "He needs to be broken."

"He's not your bitch."

This time he smirked. "I have control of everyone. Technically, you are all my bitches."

Glory be- what was wrong with me? I was actually piecing the puzzle together in my head. Just think about it: this guy has controlled everyone but me. Both Sadiq and Seychelles were frozen solid while I was spitting every remark possible. I could call it a strategy, but that would be harder for Himaruya. So in my little logic equation, that means . . .

"Correction: I am not your bitch." He raised an eyebrow, mildly surprise at my tone. I sounded more sure than I felt. Yet, I already set the challenge so I had to finish it. I took one last deep breath and said, "I'm not your creation, you can't control me. The only time you ever had was when I was in Seychelles's body, but you created that- didn't you?"

He chuckled and I knew I was right. "Yes, that is correct." He leaned into me, humor gone and expression dark. "But what are you going to do about it?" he asked. "After all, I still have the upper hand." He was so close, I could feel his breath on my lips. My lips . . .

I smirked madly. "This." And I kissed him.

.

.

.

What? The only times Sadiq has been able to break free of his hold was when Himaruya was distracted. So what better way to do that then with a kiss?

Shut up, it sounded better in my head.

I mean, hell, it wasn't even pleasant in real life. His lips were cold and his saliva made them slimy. They reminded me of frogs. Slimy, mucus covered, wart ridden frogs. I squeezed my eyes shut, resisting the urge to barf. The princess in the story was able to do this how?

After a moment of being completely grossed out, I decided heck with it and bit down. My teeth pierced his mouth's delicate flesh. Warm liquid spilled into my mouth and my tongue tasted the distinct flavor of iron. I felt the grip on my imprisoned hand vanish.

_Slap_!

I yelped, feeling the hot sting of being bitch slapped. I rubbed my cheek, cursing the idiot who invented it. What kind of dumbass goes around slapping people with their knuckles anyways?

Himaruya loomed over me, wiping the blood from his mouth. "You little slut- what did you hope to achieve by doing that?" He demanded, a poisonous zing drowning his voice. "What made you think that-" His voice turned into a scream of pain.

I looked up and barely caught a glimpse of Sadiq before a hand slap over my eyes. "Look away," Seychelles ordered, dragging me away from the scene. She turned my back to them and forced me to squat on the ground. She didn't remove her hand, not trusting me to not look at him via reflection. "You don't want to see that."

The image of Himaruya's shocked face drifted to my mind. The trail of blood dripping down his chin reinforced Sadiq's presence behind him. I suddenly felt sick. "What's going on?" I asked, tensing when I heard another pained noise. Her hold on me tightened. I flinched and pressed my lips. What was going on? Did I even want to know? "Seychelles, please . . ."

I felt her shake her head. "It's not pretty."

I heard Himaruya groaned. I really wished that I had a stuffed animal to comfortingly hold. I had one at home, sitting on my bed. It was a fluffy blue rabbit Dad gave me when I was seven. His name was Bunny- something completely original for a child. I wanted to hold Bunny and bury my face into what remained of his fake fur. My dead cat Berry had clawed off the majority of it.

Seychelles shifted uncomfortably on her feet. She spent another tense moment deciding on the right choice. Then, she changed her mind about our location. Again, she forced me to stand and ushered me out of the room. The void was amazingly much warmer than the room. Out here, the sounds of the fight inside were not as harsh but I could still hear the final remains of the losing fight. I resisted the ever strong urge to barf.

The girl removed the hand from my face, but kept my back to the scene. She rubbed my shoulders, as if telling me that if I was not calm she would not tell me the truth. I forced my eyes to stare at the blackness beyond me. My breathing calmed to a normal pace.

Seychelles hesitated a moment longer, but when a loud _thud!_ rang, she made up her mind. "When you kissed him, both of us were free to go," she explained. "Turkey grabbed one of the glass shards from Himaruya's glasses and used it as a knife."

I placed a hand over my mouth, forcing the acid to go back down my stomach. So when Himaruya screamed it was because Sadiq . . .

I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms over my gut, imagining Bunny between my arms. Oh my God, did I just help Sadiq murder someone? Did I just kill him? Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God . . .

I heard Seychelles hush into my ear and rub my back for comfort. Still, I barely registered it. I squeezed my eyes shut. My head was concentrating on my imaginary toy and happier thoughts. My ears, meanwhile, were only detecting the sound of Sadiq continuously attacking his enemy.

Think Bunny, think home, think Berry, think _the Little Mermaid_, think 'FrUk, think anything but murder.

Eventually, I sat back down onto the floor. The nation joined me, an arm slung across my shoulders. As I brought my knees to my chest, I wondered why she wasn't panicking like me. Then I remembered: she's a country. I bet things like this were just a walk in the park for her. I wished that I was as strong as her.

I guess the good thing about violence that it always had to get worse before it got better. The worst part was done and the painful noises of groans, grunts, and thuds were dying out. Then, they stopped completely. I held my breath. The only sound was Sadiq's heavy panting. I tuned into the sound of him shuffling around the room, doing who knows what.

I felt Seychelles move to see what he was doing, but by her relaxed muscles I knew that it couldn't have been serious. "What happened?" she asked nervously, rising to her feet. I refused to look or open my eyes. "Where's Himaruya?"

He was silent for a long moment. "He disappeared," he said softly. He sounded so tired, still as stressed as when he was stuck in the cycles. "After I . . . his body just turned into dust and scattered." I heard his shoes as they clicked on the floor. I felt his presence when he stepped into the void. I jumped when he closed the door, locking the three of us outside.

It was silent for a long moment.

Slowly, I untangled myself and forced my eyes open. It wasn't so much different- the inside of my head and the void. Everything was black. I carefully turned on my butt towards the two nations. Seychelles was absently untying and retying her bows, eyes staring out into the nothing. Her wistful look didn't leave half of an impression as Sadiq's.

The white shirt he wore earlier was gone, replaced by an equally white undershirt. There was no sign of the original and I could infer why. His slacks were splattered by the red substance. It was as if I had photoshoped them there. Somehow, that idea made it easier to deal with it.

His visage was strangely fitting. He was also staring out into the darkness, but it was with awe. By the way his mouth was slightly parted; I could tell that he was still processing what all of this meant.  
I thought it best to stay quiet.

Silence. . .

Sadiq suddenly started laughing. His voiced echoed around the world like a song of rejoice. Somehow, just hearing it made my heart lighter. "We're out," he exclaimed, deep voice echoing around the emptiness. "Shit, we're actually out!" His voice died down and I could practically feel his body freeze. Seychelles and I gave him strange looks as he ran his hand through his hair and chuckled. "If we're out, that means . . ." His smiled turned into that was amazement and disbelief. "I'm free."

He suddenly wrapped his hands around Seychelles and tightly squeezed her. "I'm free!" He yelled again, lifting her up into the air. I chuckled at her blushing face. His happy air was so infectious that I could not help but to laugh when he started spinning her like a child. That attracted his attention.

He gently placed her on the ground, kissed her cheek, and rushed over to me. He quickly grabbed my wrists and pulled me up onto my feet. A second later I was pressed to his chest as he hugged me, laughing and celebrating the fact. Still smiling, I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent.  
He still smelled like sweet apples.

The fact that everything was over (and that her crush just kissed her) suddenly hit Seychelles. "On my God!" She jumped into the air, barely able to contain her excitement. "Woohoo! This-" She started laughing. "-This is actually happening! Oh my God, I'll go to talk to Papa and England and Liechtenstein and Germany . . ."

In my head, I was doing the same thing. I was squealing as I created a little check list in my mind- kiss Mom, hug my brothers, apologize to Bella. The little happily-ever-afters were playing out in my head rapidly, making me want to burst out into song. I wanted to cry. This was fantastic; this was heaven.

Sadiq pressed his face into my hair. I froze and shifted uncomfortably on my feet. His content sighs tickled my scalp, sending heat to my cheeks. In a voice too soft for the other girl to hear, he said, "Thank you, Sherry."

I wrapped my arms tighter around his waist. We both squeezed harder. "I don't deserve your thanks," I muttered, looking down at the ground. "Sadiq, I should have listened to you sooner. If I did, then maybe everything . . ." His warm hand suddenly found its way under my chin. He delicately pointed my face towards his. I breathed in.

Smiling softly, he shook his head. "I don't blame you," the Turk said. "You didn't know me and I wasn't exactly being the nicest of people."

I pretended that I did not feel the deepening blush on my cheeks and simply shook my head. "But-"

He cut me off. "And besides, if we did anything differently, we may have never defeated it in the first place."

"Or maybe it could have been better," I replied, my eyes drifting back to the ground. They were swelling with tears. "Maybe none of this . . . fighting . . ." I trailed off, my voice turning into a sob. My imagination engraved an image of a bloody, dead Himaruya onto the back of my eyes. No matter what thought I tried to replace it with, it refused to leave.

By now, Seychelles had noticed our little moment and occupied herself by smoothing the wrinkles on her dress. In a way, I felt sorry for her.

The man, meanwhile, frowned, wiping the trails off my cheeks. "Don't beat yourself up over this," he sternly ordered. I sniffled again. His hands moved to my cheeks. Cupping them, he said, "Now Sherry, I want you to listen to me, okay? You saved my soul. If you hadn't played your role, I would never have gotten my opportunity to fight against Himaruya. I owe my life to you, understand?" I weakly nodded, still not believing him.

He leaned until our faces were mere inches from each other. "So when I thank you, I want you to accept it, alright?"

I opened my mouth, ready to reply to him when the strangest thing happened: He leaned in and pressed his lips against my own. Time slowed to a halt and my world started to spin. My eyes closed in defeat. I didn't have the sense to kiss back- I didn't feel the need to. Everything just seemed better with him leaning into me and doing the work.

I was reminded of my kiss with Fake-Sadiq. That one's kiss was so much fiercer; the real one's was simply gentle. My chest started aching. I had to talk to him about what happened- was it really just a trick or did he truly have romantic feelings towards me?

I wanted it to be a trick; I wanted everything to remain normal between us. But at the same time, I wanted more from him. I wanted his affection, his company, and his love. The longing for it was stabbing my heart with guilt. I wanted a father and Sadiq could be that. But I also wanted my real Dad. I wanted him to be the one holding me and telling me that it would be okay.

Sometimes, I just hated myself.

It lasted for a few seconds before he stepped back. The sudden lack of his presence made my eyes snap open. Sadiq was standing a few feet away, right by a sad looking Seychelles. He smiled sadly, gleaming eyes meeting mine equally. In his hand, he held his pocket watch.

Panic struck through me. As if to double check, I dug my hands into my pockets. The pocket where I held the watch was had something else in it. I wrapped my hand around it and pulled it out. In my palm was Himaruya's broken glasses. I jumped, nearly dropping the rectangular frame.

I looked back up at the two nations. Their figures were fading away, disappearing into the darkness of the abyss. I could barely see Seychelles as she was calling out a goodbye. I could no longer hear her, but I could see the thick frown on her face. Sadiq was standing still, smiling with sadness and guilt. His eyes never left me as I mouthed out one last thing.

I was no expert in lip reading- we all knew that -but I could barely make out what he was trying to tell me. At first, I thought he said "good eye, a manga", but that didn't make sense. I squinted my eyes and suddenly understood.

"_Goodbye, Agatha."_

I screamed and starting running towards their disappearing shapes. I couldn't leave, not now. I still wanted to spend so much time with them. I still had to hug him goodbye, tell him that I'll miss him. "No! Don't!" They were nearly gone. I outstretched a hand, trying to catch their remaining pieces. "Please, don't! I lo-" The rest of my word was lost in my descent into darkness. All around, I could feel myself falling

and falling

and falling

and falling

a

n

d

. . .

* * *

**MW: **So there we are. Man, I always feel as though my final show down chapters are lame. So very lame.

**SEK: **Stop fishing for sympathy like MK claims you do.

**MW: **I would say that I hate you, but then I would lose my proof reader.

**SEK: **It's all part of the plan.

**MW: **Damn you.

Anyways, the plans for the rest of this story and series. After much thought and debate, I decided that this is going to be a trilogy. Sorry for those who wanted one big one. But to make things easier for you, after the epilogue, there will be the symbolism cheat sheet, and (once I feel ready to post it) a last chapter giving a preview to the next part and publish date. See! I'm making this so easy!

For those curious, this series is going to be entitled "The Fan Series". I'm going to hold back on the titles due to the fact that they technically contain spoilers. So Blue, do your usual line.

**BFTL: **(I need to speak more . . .) And remember to review!

**No Funfacts Today!**

**Next Chapter: **Everything over, everyone tries to settle back into their previous lives.

**So . . . I guess you guys should review. I mean, there's a little box down there just inching to be written in. **


	15. Epilogue- Back to the Real World

**MW: **Guys, never post an epilogue when Clannad music is playing. It's going to make you wanna cry *burst into tears*

**SEK: **Pull yourself together, girl!

**MW: **I'm sorry. It's just that we're nearly at 200 reviews and this made so many people happy and I actually feel really depress over its ending.

**SEK: **There's still the sequel.

**MW: **True. Anyways, please enjoy and GOSH DARN IT, I HAVE TO TURN THIS MUSIC OFF.

**Chapter Summary: **Everyone tries to move on.

**Warnings: **Strong Language, Yaoi, and Yuri

**Disclaimer: **And in the end, I still only own my OCs.

* * *

**~Epilogue~**

**Back to the Real World**

"_The fact is you can't escape the past by moving on, it just moves with you."_

**-Fabian Black, British Author**

* * *

**No Cycle: Friday**

Turkey laughed again, this time a small snort in his booming vocals. Iceland smiled at him, harboring a tall glass of beer between his hands. Somehow, France and England had managed to convince Bartender Pangaea to open the bar for what they claimed was a post prom party. "It'll keep the couples from having sex in the classrooms," France had said, sealing the deal. His voice had been so sure that no one would have suspected the lie.

They were not here due to the prom, but due to Sadiq.

Iceland smiled again, taking a small sip. He and Pops sat at the bar, drinking to their heart's content in the dim but inviting light. Turkey had done it- he was free and the Nordic could easily tell. His smiles came more easily, his laughs were louder, and his eyes were younger. He seemed like a younger man- one who could have once formed a vast empire. He was younger which, when Iceland thought about it, was rather ironic considering what the man was rambling about.

"Seriously, kid you should have seen her- she was so young!" Turkey exclaimed, swinging a long drink of whiskey. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, still laughing at the idea. "She still had this baby face and God! She looked like such a teenager with this acne covered cheek and-" He drank again. His grin suddenly fell into a tight frown. Iceland blinked, surprised at the sudden change in mood.

"Hey Pops, what's up?" he asked, watching the other man place his drink back on the counter. "Is something wrong?"

The Turk scratched the back of his neck, looking down sadly at the bar. The room around him was so full of their own celebration that they did not even notice his sudden silence. France and England were excitedly fretting over Seychelles, trying to love her and get the full story from her. She, an arm and both legs wrapped in bright white casts, was brushing them away and trying to talk to her boyfriend about some excuse for her recent behavior. Iceland noticed that her eyes kept flickering towards Turkey.

He didn't know why, but every time he saw that his grip on his glass tightened.

Just as Prussia yelled in jealousy over Liechtenstein and Italy's new relationship, Turkey pressed his lips together. "Do you remember- way back during THE WAR—before I started dating Switzerland?" he asked, scratching his neck.

Iceland nodded. How could anyone forget THE WAR? Those were some crazy days. Living on ships and acting like pirates; something like that leaves a mark. "Yeah, I remember it," he replied. "You were kind of an ass back then."

Turkey winced. In a way, he had to admire the Icelandic's blunt nature. "Well, about that . . ." He gently placed his elbows on the bar and hunched over his liquor. A stressed breath escaped his nostrils. "There was this girl," he started, hesitance dripping from the air.

"A girl?" Iceland was quite sure he did not hear that right. The pops that he knew did not like women like that. Back in the days when the nations could swing either way without any judgment, Turkey chose to waste his time on one night stands with humans. To him, countries were a long explored territory. He had to do something different. Therefore, he never messed with the same person- male or female -twice. To have a special person like that was impossible. Iceland could tell that by the wistful tone in his voice, it was obvious that there was something more than a simple fling going on.

Thus it came quite a shock to him when the other nodded. "Yeah, a girl." He brought his drink to his lips again.

Iceland shook his head. "Look Pops, I like your honesty and everything, but what does this have to do with anything?"

Again, Turkey sighed. In the white noise, he heard the room applauding America and Denmark's new cosplay as Loki and Iron Man. It was loud- a mixture of prideful yelling and amazed laughs. Yet to him, everything was practically silent. "Sherry looks exactly like her."

The silver haired teen raised an eyebrow, face painted with confusion. "That's impossible" Iceland denied, uneasily tapping his foot. His finger tapped the wood counter, the nail making a loud ti-ti noise. "THE WAR happened centuries ago. A human cannot live for that long."

"Here's the thing- Agatha looked a few years older," Turkey determinedly explained. "Sherry looked a little younger than her. It could be possible that she and Agatha are sisters." He suddenly registered the Nordic's condescending expression. "Oh, Agatha was the girl's name."

"That's not the problem, Pops." Iceland slid out of his stool, motioning for Bartender Pangaea to take his half empty glass. "The problem is that you're implying that humans can live hundreds of years and only grow younger-"

Turkey gave a sullen look. "I never said that."

"You implied it." He started to march away, but a guilty conscience made him change his mind. After all, Pops was not to blame for the longful look Seychelles never gave him. Pivoting on his heels, he turned back to his friend and placed an apologetic hand on his shoulders. In a much softer voice, he said, "Look, I'm sorry Pops. I'm just a bit agitated right now. I just think that you're a bit high on relief. Why don't you give your head time to clear before you go off saying things like that?"

At first, the Mediterranean looked ready to protest. His mouth opened, but the hard look in the other's eyes made him close it again. Looking down wistfully, he fidgeted on his seat. "I guess you're right," he said. He forced a new smile on his lips and laughed. "I'm sorry Kid: I must sound really stupid right now."

He frowned. "That's not what I meant-"

"Of course it wasn't." Turkey downed another drink, as if to prove that he was not peeved the slightest bit.

Iceland groaned. "Pops, would you stop being so diffic-"

"Actually, I think I need some time to myself now." Turkey's smile gained just the right amount of blithe bliss that Iceland almost did believe him. But then his logic cried out that he was only acting that way because he had said those things. Iceland knew that if he had just smiled and let the man fantasize, he would feel no need to reflect.

So he started another objection, only to be cut off a third time. "A lot happened today and I really do need to stop and think about them," Turkey explained, seemingly unaware that he was rambling. A wry smirk flashed across his face. "If I don't then I might forget and end up repeating the same mistakes again."

It was a lost cause. Iceland squeezed the Turk's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I should have . . ." He stopped himself. What was the point of apologizing for something someone refused to believe was wrong? His hand loosened and his mind told himself to walk away and leave the old man to his peace.

But his body responded different.

Iceland wrapped his arms around Turkey's shoulders, pulling him close to his chest. The brunette barely blinked before he returned the favor and wrapped his arms around the younger's chest. "I'm glad you're safe," Iceland muttered, speaking into the crook of the other's neck. "I was really worried back there."

Turkey laughed. "That wasn't even me," he replied, slapping the pale teen's back. "What was the worst that could have happened?"

Iceland bit his lip. Would it be worth telling him? After all the excitement he felt for this Agatha person, he would practically be betraying him if he didn't. With a sigh, he leaned in and whispered a quick word into his ear. He felt Turkey's body stiffen and he could almost imagine the sweat gathering in his palms.

At this point, it would not be a good idea to leave Turkey alone. His eyes were wider and his forehead was perspiring. Still, the air around him was of solitude. It was stronger, far more impactful than him snapping for Iceland to leave him alone. So the nation followed his silent ordered and pulled away. "Stay safe Pops," he ordered before making his way over to his big brother Denmark.

The blond, dressed as Loki, was trying to reenact the showdown scene between Loki and Black Widow. The problem was that his Scarlet Johanson was Belarus and she did not like it when the Dane called her weak, especially when it was in front of her girl friend. Blood was to be shed if Iceland didn't do something.

Turkey watched him go, forced smile dwindling into a tight frown. Sighing, he turned his back to the world and hugged the sides of his glass. He looked down at the clear liquid, forcing himself to think.

All around him were happy people, off making good of their time away from their bosses. They drank beers and laughed at the jokes played on them. Everyone who his deal could have affected was living with no idea what exactly happened.

France and England knew, but they could never understand.

Iceland, for the most part, lived every cycle off in his own world.

No one knew where Estonia was.

None of them could understand the repetitive feeling of having to repeat yourself over and over and over again. None of them could understand how it was like to see your lifeline erode into nothing. The hope growing more and more dull with each passing minute. The feeling of the shackle in your pocket. . .

Turkey thoroughly believed that he was alone in this. Even when Poland screamed out his name and ran to kiss him, Turkey held onto his sorrow. His boyfriend, kissed his face, laughing in relief. "You, like, totally had me worried there," he exclaimed, the blond soft to the touch. "You should have, like, been there. Switzy and I totally went dancing and I saw him get his freak on . . ."

The brunette found a smile magically appear on his face. Poland's arms were sound- the only safe place there was. He pressed his face into those precious blond locks and felt himself frown. He had Poland to keep him safe, to love him, and to drag him out of the stress Himaruya had imposed on him. Sherry had no one. Like the jackass had explained, she had to keep quiet about it or else people would think that she was crazy. That girl would be completely alone in her self repair.

Turkey felt his heart ache. He had a responsibility to help her, especially—as Iceland explained- since she had placed her love in him. He hoped that one day, he would see her again. Perhaps, not as Seychelles but as herself. Then maybe they could talk.

He smiled. Talking sounded perfect.

* * *

**Real World: Monday**

This time, it was not the sound of Lady Gaga singing that woke me from my dreams. No, for the first in what felt like forever, I woke on my own accord. Moaning, I sat up and looked at my clock. The bright red numbers declared the time to be four in the morning. I had three hours before I had to get up for school.

I groaned, wondering why there was no light trying to enter through the crack in the blinds. Without their presence, it felt as though it was the middle of winter. I buried my face in my palms. It's been spring for so long that I've even forgotten that there was such a thing as 'winter'. I ran my dry hands down my face.

My dry hands.

Feeling my heart jolt, I tumbled out of bed. "_Is this really happening?" _I wondered, tripping over my feet and the crap on the floor to my door. The three foot distance turned into twenty yards as my desperation grew worse. Did it finally happen? I practically slammed the door opened. It was a miracle that the loud bang I created didn't wake Mom, Jerry, and Larry.

My panic disappeared for a moment as I stared. The dark hallway I grew up in seemed like an alien land. My heart seized. It was as if this was the first time I ever gazed upon it. With hesitance, I stepped into it and made my way to the bathroom. It was on the right side of the hall, right? I trailed my hand along the wall, slowly remembering how my house was laid out. The bathroom was just after the laundry room.

Quietly, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The darkness of the early hours engulfed me when I locked the door and stood still. The minute I turn on the light, I was going to be just Sherry again. Seychelles was not lurking in the depths in my head, ready to turn me into a hooker. Ari wasn't going to be leaning against a wall, observing and sorting the world around him. Sadiq would no longer be around to kick my butt and to later apologize for it.

It became hard to breathe.

Everyone was probably moving on with their lives right now. I could see Seychelles talking fondly with Germany, Ari hugging his puffin, and Sadiq loving his boyfriend. Soon, Sherry Sue was going to be nothing but a memory. But I didn't want to forget- how could I? Sadiq, in the room, he . . . After everything we went through, it would be a crime to just cast away everything we did together. The bad things were shielded by the fun times I had, weren't they? I had no horror story to tell from this.

My fists tightened. Like them, I can move on. I can go through school, laugh with my family, and draw without having to always think about them. Eventually, they will become nothing more than a dream I once thought was real. But for that to happen, I had to first look at myself.

I placed a finger under the little tab thingy and smiled wryly. Wasn't there that Peter Pan quote that was always floating around the internet? "Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting"? How fitting.

When the lights came on, I was not blinded. Instead, the fluorescent glow gently brightened my face and brought life to the wall mirror above the sink. I placed my hands on the white porcelain and stared at myself. My skin was white, but littered with freckles and pimples. My hair was a flaming mess, not the supermodel locks Seychelles took pride in. The white in my eyes were a pale red.

I lowered my head as something began to rumble up my chest. My whole body shook until a single noise slipped out: a chuckle. That chuckle grew louder and longer, until it morphed into a full blown laugh. I held my sides as I tried to keep quiet. I felt ridiculous- why was I even worried in the first place? I was me and for now, that was okay.

At this point, I was so riled up that there was no point in trying to go back to bed. I didn't think that I could fall asleep ever again without wondering if I would wake up back in Gakuen Hetalia. Quickly, I splashed cold water onto my face and returned to my room. This time, I moved with confidence and as much grace I could manage. Somehow, I still ended up stubbing my toe on the door frame.

After hopping on one foot as I cursed every door known to man, I finally got around to turning on my bedroom lights. Everything from my messy bed to littered floor was re-engraved into my memory. I frowned. Seychelles probably never had a room like this.

Still in my white tee and puppy pajamas, I plugged my headphones into my ears and got to work. First, I cleared away all the crap that was on my floor- old clothes, shoes, papers, the remains of something unknown. I placed all the trash in my wastebasket and sorted my dirty clothes from my clean ones. That brought a new challenge to light.

Why take my clothes off the floor my closet was in no shape to house them? Just looking at it, I had to cringe. Clothes, shoes, and miscellaneous junk weaved together in a crude spider web. I didn't know how I could have lived with that before. How did I think that was normal? Gosh, I was such a pig sty. Humming along to Lady Gaga, I laboriously placed all my shoes in a neat row and reorganized my hangers. I discovered a few of my old backpacks from elementary school and a coat I hadn't worn since eighth grade.

I used to love that thing too.

An hour later, I smiled in triumph. Hands on hips, I looked over my job well done. My floor looked nice and my closet was actually usable. Martha Stewart would be proud of me. But there was still something wrong- my walls were wrong. I still had my drawings and anime posters tacked into the plaster. And by anime posters, I mean the faces of Hetalia characters.

I didn't want them there. There was such a difference between the Studio Deen drawings and whom I actually saw that it was mind blowing. The main one- I found -was that they were real people with real emotions and feelings. They wouldn't like their faces used like this. Who was I to invade their privacy or disrespect them like that? This time, I scowled. In my head, I knew that it was a bit obsessive but that couldn't change anything. Still, I knew that the thought was never going to let me rest.

Tuning into something by Adele, I pulled up my desk chair to the most loaded wall. I carefully stepped onto it (damn thing had wheels on it) and took a deep breath. To the most perfect drunk songs, I carefully pulled each tack out and placed the shiny papers on the floor. One by one the posters and drawings came down, even the ones that weren't Hetalia.

I didn't want them anymore.

My arms were aching when I finished. Still, I sat on the floor and rolled up the official stuff and stacked my own works. All of them were fitted underneath my bed. Maybe one day, I would get the courage to put them back up. Right now, however, I was still too afraid. Shaking out my arms and rolling my shoulders, I looked up at my room.

It was almost unrecognizable. With everything neat and organized, my room seemed bigger, more airy. I sighed and laid down on my floor. Hmm, I almost forgot that my walls were even white.

I still had an hour and a half until Mom would be up. There had to be something I could do. Hands behind my head, I glanced up at my desk. Out of everything in my room, this was the only area that was clean from the start. It made sense- it was the one place where I used to always draw.

Draw.

Within a split second, I jumped to my feet and ran to my desk. Somehow I managed to get my excited butt onto my chair. I pulled out a new sheet and paper and the nearest pencil. For the first time in what felt like years, I drew the perfect line. I smiled, drawing an expert circle. Then, a rough sketch of a human figure. I wanted to do a victory dance. I could draw again. It was as if I never had to stop.

High on happiness, I tossed that paper aside and pulled out another. As I sharpened my pencil, I thought about my task. I had to draw something- I knew that for sure. The problem was what. I looked up and saw my blank walls again. There had to be something I could put up there.

I knew what I wanted to draw.

In careful, precise strokes, I started sketching out a face. I added the features- a nice nose, a strong chin, and a smirk. I paused at the eyes. Which ones did I want? The tired, haunted look I remember so clearly or the relieved, joyous ones that lightened my heart. Somehow, I did a mixture of the two- eyes that seen every struggle to man, but with a hope. They knew that it was going to end soon and for their favor. I smiled. Yes, that was perfect.

Once the hair and shading was added, I could recognize him. Sadiq was there, smirking straight at me. I smirked back down at him. He looked nice, though there were many other looks he gave me. There was his annoyed glare and his guilty, apologetic face. I knew for sure that I would be drawing him again.

I frowned before banging my head on the desk. The crap, he never told me what shea butter was! He promised that he would when this all ended. "_If I ever see him again, I'm going to strangle it from his throat," _I mentally grumbled. I didn't know if I was imagining it or not, but I swore that I could hear his victorious laughter.

I pinned the portrait on the wall by my bed and started the next one. Ari appeared at the end of the lead, looking cool and calculating. I tried my best to mimic the glint of curiosity in his eyes, but I didn't think I got it right. "_Its fine, though," _I thought, pinning that one next to Sadiq's. "_I can always try again later."_

I didn't know whether I should draw a Seychelles, France, or England portrait next. So, I instead started outlining a family portrait of them. It was a scene in my head- the girl helping her two parents with student council work, smiling and thoroughly enjoying herself in the process. However, my actual alarm sounded before I was finished.

Smiling at Lady Gaga's voice, I placed my pencil down and promised myself that I would finish it right after school. I still had to draw Liechtenstein, America, Denmark, Germany, Prussia, Estonia-

I shook my head. I didn't want to draw him. I wanted that man out of my life forever. But I could still see his glare behind my eyelids. That victorious smirk and those cold eyes. His bloody body sprawled out dead on the glossy white floors. . .

I would be drawing him, but only as a release. Then those pictures were going to be ripped up or shoved into a lonely corner. I did not want his face by my bed. It haunted me enough already.

By the time I had "You and I" silenced, I heard the sweet, sweet tune of my mom banging her hand on my door. "Are you up, Sherry?" she asked, not sounding the least bit tired. "It's time for school." My name sounded weird coming off her lips. Only Sadiq, Seychelles, and occasionally Ari called me that. Who was she to do so? Oh yeah, she's my mom; she has rights. I suddenly dreaded the next few days. It was going to take a while to get used to _not _being called Seychelles.

"Um, yeah, I'm up," I called back, trying to sound confident. I started moving around my room for effect. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

". . . Alright then. . ?"I could practically feel Mom's uneasiness. She always had to drag my ass out of bed and force me to come down for breakfast. Me actually being ready for the day simply did not happen. I listened to her steady steps as she walked away before knocking on Larry and Jerry's door. The sound of the elder twin's groans made me smile. At least that hasn't changed.

I realized for the first time that I had no idea what to wear. Before I just threw on the academy's uniform and did my hair. The idea of actually having to coordinate my outfits suddenly seemed too monumental to overcome. As the sweet noise of Larry cursing the world as Jerry dragged him out from under his sheets rang throughout the house, I settled for a pair of jeans and a Sailor Moon shirt.

I wonder why they call them 'pairs of jeans' anyways. They're only one of them. Is, like, each pant leg a jean?

The laces to my conversed were tied and I was almost ready to make my debut appearance. I just had to do one last thing. Why spend so much time cleaning my room if I was just going to leave the bed a mess?

I pulled the sheets on neatly and smoothed out the wrinkles. Hell, I even tucked the ends underneath the mattress. My puffy purple comforter was laid on top and I rediscovered an old friend. It was Bunny- the blue stuffed animal Dad got me so long ago. A melancholic smile stretched across my face when I saw the missing patches of fur. If anything, Bunny was currently the best thing to keep my company.

I picked him up and pressed it into my face. I closed my eyes, becoming lost in the nostalgic softness. I took a deep breath in and smelled him. Somehow, he smelled softly of Mom's floral perfume. Must be from that one time I was playing dress up with him and I sprayed the majority of the bottle into his fur. My knees buckled at the memory and I eased myself onto the bed.

My butt landed on something hard.

Reluctantly, I freed my face and put the stuff animal on my lap. I stood a little and reached underneath my blankets. I tried my best not to disturb my spectacular cleaning skills, but most of my sheets were yanked from their position when I felt it. Dread washed over my being. It couldn't be _that._

Carefully, I pulled out Himaruya's glasses. I squealed, nearly dropping them. What was this doing here? This was supposed to stay in the void with Sadiq. How did it even get here? Last I checked, my consciousness was the only thing that switched universes. Still, I remembered the way Sadiq smiled at me when he took the pocket watch. That sad, sad look in his eyes after he drew back from the kiss.

I brought my fingers to my lips. I think I understand now. He was distracting me, making sure that I didn't notice him steal the only item anchoring me there. But why would he switch it out for the glasses? What difference would that have made?

I remembered him talking to Seychelles, telling her about how the only thing that remained of Himaruya was his glasses. Every video game that I knew of always has it so that if the hero didn't destroy every last bit of the villain, he would return to fight another day. What if he was trying to do the same thing? What if Sadiq was making sure that there would be no possible way for Himaruya to come back?

My hands shook. I didn't want this. I didn't want to be the keeper of something as damned as this. If I screw up, our lives were going to be thrown back into chaos. I just knew that I was going to mess this up somehow. "_But Sadiq trusts me," _I thought. "_So I've got to try."_

I wrapped the pair of glasses in an old sock and placed it in the bottom drawer of my desk- the one with the lock in it. I would figure out how to destroy it later.

Swinging my own ridiculously heavy backpack over my shoulder, I was ready to go downstairs. A little past seven in the morning, I stepped back into the hallway. The light made it easier to see the family portraits hanging on the green wall. My family's smiling faces encouraged me to make my way down the hall to the stairs.

The last stretch of the hall was above the kitchen and living room. I lingered at the banisters, crouching so that I could fit my head between the rails. Mom was at the stove, expertly flipping Bisquick pancakes. Her half eaten Jell-O pudding cup was sitting at the granite counter, waiting for her to continue to prove her high metabolism. Jerry and Larry's red heads were like vivid dots against the wood floors. Their small statures- still clothed in their Pajama shirts and boxers -seemed so innocent as they waited for her to finish their meals. All I could do was look down.

Everything seemed so normal. This was just another day in the Sue household- no one would expect that anything was different. No one would expect that last night I was off in a different world. My hands tightened around one of the white banisters until my knuckles were white. A nail was being driven into my head and I wanted to cry. Shit, I missed them so much. I thought that I was never going to see them again.

"What are you doing, Sher?" I flinched and looked down. Larry was looking back up at me with a scowl. His thin brows were knitted together in annoyance. Mom and Jerry followed his gaze, surprise at my hiding spot.

I couldn't bring myself to scowl back at him. Instead, I climbed down the stairs, an uncertain look on my face. "Sherry, is something wrong?" Mom asked, placing the spatula next to her dessert. A second later her warm hand was on my forehead. "You seem sick."

Everything just became too much.

I flung my arms around her small waist and buried my face into her chest. I kept my eyes closed, not that it made any dam against my tears. A loud sob broke through my throat. "Mommy . . ." My mother immediately wrapped her arms back around me and cooed soothing noises. Her soft hands pet my head, as if trying to wipe the distress from me.

"Mom, what's wrong with Sherry?" Jerry asked quietly. Quiet, but concerned.

Larry huffed. "Jer, there is such a thing as PMS-"

I could imagine Mom's deadly glare. "Larry!" She scolded, holding me tighter. Her anger was enough to make my brother give into defeat and shut his mouth. Once so, she sighed and returned to her eternal kindness. "Why don't you and Jerry go upstairs and get ready for the day." He started to object. "Now please."

Their bare feet pattered on the wood as their climbed back up the stairs. One grumbling, the other sending off worried vibes. It was only when she heard the sound of their door closing did Mom force me to look at her. Her beautiful pale visage was so calm, so loving that I could not pull my eyes away, even if they were blurry from tears. "Sherry, what happened?" she asked. "Why are you crying?"

I hiccupped. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted the pressure on my chest to just go away for good. But I couldn't. If Himaruya was right about one thing it was that if I told anyone, I would be considered crazy. Even in victory, I was still facing his punishment. This sucked.

So I instead told her, "It's PMS and I was watching Air TV just now. Misuzu . . . "

Obviously, Mom also watched that show. "Sherry, you know how Key is like," she said. "By watching their stuff, you're guaranteeing a tear fest." The scent of burnt pancakes drifted to our noses. I frowned. It easily masked Mom's floral scent. "And besides, you said that you were never going to watch any more of their work after what happened in Clannad," she added, turning off the stove and placing the food on the plate.

The smoldering substance made me realize that I never tried England's cooking. Damnit, a once in a lifetime opportunity and I missed it.

The woman looked down at the food and sighed. "Great, more batter wasted. It's enough that your brothers always eat that stuff anyways."

I reached over and snatched the burnt Canadian staple, saying, "Well here, I'll eat it. I gotta get to school anyways."

Mom raised an eyebrow as I quickly rushed back to the top of the stairs. "This early?" She asked quizzingly. "What business could you possibly have?"

As I grabbed my bag, I put my new lying skills to use. "I was going to retake my geometry test." I scratched the back of my head, saying meekly, "I kind of did fail it. . ."

Her skeptical look continued for a second longer, but she eventually sighed in defeat. "Well I wish you luck then." Trying to mimic happiness, I hopped back down the stairs with my bag. I shoved a big piece of pancake into my mouth, making sure that I didn't have to give any further explanation. I called out a muffled goodbye and ran for the front door.

"And Sherry?" I paused, hand on the door knob. Mom hugged me again and placed a kiss on my forehead. "When you want to tell me what's actually wrong then I'll be here to listen. Always. Understand?" I forced a smug grin and quickly escaped through the door without a response. One day I'll figure out how exactly she always knows. Maybe it's a perk of being a mother.

The morning air was cold, making me immediately wish that I had a jacket. But even with an overcast sky, I didn't want to risk turning back and getting one. Mom might play Jedi mind tricks on me and force me to confess. There was no way I would allow that to happen.

Hugging my arms, I started to walk to school. The sidewalks were mostly empty, save for the occasional homeowner in their robe searching for their newspaper. I didn't know what was wrong with the paper boy for this neighborhood- he always seemed to throw them onto the strangest of places. One time I woke up to find the opinions page stapled to my window.

Where he even found a stapler strong enough to pierce glass would always remain an enigma.

For the whole walk, I could not stop thinking about the glasses in my drawer. They were just sitting there, waiting to be stolen. What if while I was school, Himaruya somehow broke into my room was retrieved them? What if he hurt Mom in the process? I pushed the paranoia out of my head. He's dead; that could never happen. I just had to believe that one fact.

Himaruya was never going to show up again.

"Sherry!" I looked across the street and realized that I was in front of my old elementary school. There was a sidewalk that walked between it and the local park. Trekking across the rich green carpet was Bella. Her blond hair was pulled into low a braid, framing her milky white face. Her cute dress and sandals were ruined by the large gym bag hanging from her shoulder. She must have a soccer game today.

For the first time in forever, I truly wished that she wins.

"What are you doing up this early?" The girl asked, somehow managing to get hug me, gym bag and all. "You usually have to run to class." I laughed with her, realizing how odd this was. It was as if we did not get into an argument just last night.

I sighed. Now that I think about it, doesn't she always do this? Pretend that there are no problems in the world? Isn't that how she earned her Mary-Sue status? By adapting to her ruined family life?

Bella pulled me away, giving me a concerned look. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to sound light hearted and merry. "You're never in a bad mood this early in the morning."

I sighed again. Might as well come out and tell her. "Bella, I-"

"Even on Mondays you're usually chirpy," She rambled, completely unaware that I was even trying to speak. "This is weird, considering that most teens dread the ever persistent start of the school week-"

"Bella. . ."

"Heck, you weren't even in a bad mood when that flamer said that 'FrUk' sucked. And that's considering that they said that Seychelles roc-"

"I'm sorry, Bella!" Her voice fell dead. For a moment, we did nothing but stare at each other, her with curious shock and me with embarrassment. Feeling the heat gather in my cheeks, I look down, confessing, "Bel, I have been a real big jerk to you. I just haven't been a very good friend and stuff. So . . . I'm sorry."

She laughed. My blush grew deeper and her mellifluous voice spread through the crisp air around us. A bubble of anger gathered in my stomach, but I told myself to hold it in. I am supposed to be the bigger person here.

At last, Bella clapped a hand on my shoulder, saying, "I'm sorry Sherry, but why are you apologizing? You've done nothing wrong."

I blinked. "I what?"

"You're a great friend Sher and I wouldn't ask for anyone else." I felt my heart grow light. That was the greatest compliment anyone could ever give me. In happiness, I dropped my bag and embraced her. The blonde chuckled lightly and readily patted my back. "What is with you today? Did you go through a near death experience after Skype?"

"Just shut up and keep the compliments coming," I ordered, laying my head against her shoulder.

She smiled. "Alright. You're a great artist and I am envious of your abilities. And I also trust you more than anyone. If I had to, I would leave my soul in your hands." My thoughts immediately flew to Sadiq and Himaruya.

I pushed them and her away, shaking my head. "Okay, I'm good," I said, distractedly taking my bag off the ground. I could feel her confused look on my back, but I pretended not to notice. "Let's get going now. We don't want to be late."

Bella shrugged and started to walk away. "Detention would be well worth a fluffy moment with you."

"We are changing the subject now" I said, trying to sound annoyed. Still, a laugh slipped from under my lips. I followed after, asking, "So how's Stella doing with the drama club?"

So the day continued on, the events of that time never more than just suspected. Eventually, everyone forgot about my weird behavior and went on with their lives. At first, I tried to follow their lead and banish the memories from my head, but only thinking about what happened would leave me stuck in a dark place. No matter what I tried, they were always there- lingering in my dreams, in my thoughts, and in the lines of my drawings. But no matter what, the one thing that never changed was my fears.

At first, I would have vivid nightmares about Himaruya and that instant in the void. He was dead, he was smirking, he was bloody, he was killing. I never figured out a way to be rid of them, I just learned to deal with it until morning.

Eventually, they came less often but his presence was always there. His breath, always breathing down my neck. But I only had to think of Sadiq and his bravery to pull me through those long nights. I only had to think of the glasses in my desk drawer to remember that Himaruya was never coming back. And, with that hope, I was able to look back with fondness, not anxiety.

Time flowed on and the people I met and the things I saw became a part of me. They were forever engraved into my heart and never to be forgotten. I could still feel Seychelles in my head every time I took a moment and looked things from another's point of views. In a way, I never judged somehow right off the bat anymore. I think Sadiq would be proud of me for doing so. I think he would slap my back and congratulate my maturity. I think he would like the person I had become.

As times passed, I was okay with the way things turned out. Even though I still yearned to go back, I was okay with staying in this world. And when it came to the day I left high school and went to art college, I even accepted the fact that I would never go back.

Unfortunately, things were never that simple.

* * *

**No Cycle: Friday**

The man stood on the clock tower, observing the sight. Even though they made attempts to clean up the blood, there were still a few smudges of red here and there. He sighed, cursing the laziness of adults who were supposed to be acting like teenagers. "_Don't get your panties in a bunch," _his accomplice said. "_They shouldn't have to worry about such things."_

"It's my world," he grumbled back, moving to the clock tower's edge. "They should try to take better care of it."

"_They just went through hell and back- especially Turkey. They all deserve a time to celebrate."_

He chuckled. "You are too kind," he replied dryly, looking up at the moon. It was full, hanging low in the midnight sky. "Hopefully, this is was enough to stop him for good."

This time, it was his partner who sounded somber. "_I wouldn't get your hopes up. He's sneaky and will find a way to strike back."_

A curt nod. "Yes, but I am still surprised that your choice actually worked. If it was anyone else this might not have ended so successfully."

"_Correction- you didn't choose my original choice. The one I wanted would have ended everything much more quickly and smoothly. You stuck in the child I least wanted there."_

He shrugged, setting himself on the ground. Hanging his feet over the edge, he said, "You don't give her enough credit. If anything, the trouble she caused was far more impactful than . . ." He trailed off, his lips dropping into a frown. Anxiously, he reached into his bag and pulled out a notebook.

"_Hey, what's wrong?" _The other asked, looking at the notes and pictures with him. Every pencil sketch and character note was quickly analyzed before flipping to the next one. "_What are you looking for?"_

The man didn't reply, only skipping a few pages to the more vague characters. At last, his eyes lingered under a history description. "They're all different," he breathed, flipping back to the front of the book. He saw the saw new alterations taking place. " . . . He's still alive."

It was silent for a long moment. "_What? How do you even know? He-"_

"He's not alive now, but he was back then." He focused his gaze on the changed part, making sure his companion understood what he meant. "And now everyone's history is changing."

**~End of The Fangirl~ **

* * *

**MW: **And there you have it. Hopefully, this was not such a disappointment to you all.

**SEK: **I thought it was good—

**MW: **(You think that everything I do it good)

**SEK: **But you would all be sad to know that now you all will have to wait until the sequel preview.

**BFTL: **What about the symbolism cheat sheet.

**MW: **Well, here's the thing. Everything can be interpreted differently and if you guys saw one meaning in my work that I did not intend, then I don't want to ruin it. Therefore, you guys are all on your own with the symbolism (sorry). I expect the essay next Monday.

**SEK: **Right, so remember to review!

**FunFacts**

"Air TV just now. Misuzu . . . " Saddest 13 episodes of my life. I like Clannad better, but gosh, this show is sad. Misuzu is the main character.

**~Acknowledgements~**

Like always, thank you to SEK for proofreading especially when her grades are on the line. Now relax and go do some homework. Thanks to Blue for listening to me on our walks home as I rambled about plot ideas. Even though you said nothing, you helped a lot.

Many thanks to Hetalia Archives, Hetalia Wiki, and Google Images for character personalities, descriptions, and quirks. Special thanks to MoonSparrow for being a doll and The-Panda-Bread for fanart. Also to the people of tumblr for just talking about this. I felt famous.

And lastly, to the readers for reviewing, watching, and favoring, even when my updates were slow and less than satisfying. You all make this worthwhile. See you in the sequel!

Je vous aimes~!

-MidnasWolf

**Next Chapter: **Sequel preview and release date, which probably wouldn't come out for a while. But still, don't press unwatch just yet.

**Thank you everyone! I love you all!**


	16. Sequel Preview

**MW: **Eighteen days. It took me eighteen stanking days to plan out the sequel and write the first chapter. Ugh.

Anyways, welcome to the preview of the next installment of "The Fanseries". It's going to be released on Saturday. Go read it.

I expect to see all 69 or so of you there.

**Warnings: **Strong Language, homophobia

**Disclaimer: **As always, I own nothing but my OCs.

* * *

**~Preview~**

I watched as Jerry pressed his lips and did his best to intimidate me with his anger. For him, that was close to impossible. His face always turned into a bright pink shade and his lips always made an adorable pout. He looked more like a little girl than anything. "Why did you do that, Larry?" he demanded. "You don't know what it's like for her."

"Neither do you," I replied evenly, returning back to my computer. At this point, watching Stella was not going to help me. I wanted to groan. It looked as though the only way to get rid of my annoyance-turned-anger was to vent it. "She hasn't told anyone," I said. "Or have you forgotten?"

Jerry groaned, but it sounded weak. "If she's screaming, then it has to be serious." He suddenly noticed that I was barely paying him any heed. "Lar, what are you doing?"

Not even bothering to rip my eyes away, I replied, "Updating my hate blog."

"Your what?"

I mindlessly beckoned for him to join me at my side. He hesitated for a moment, but he eventually did with a flushed face and downcast eyes. Sounding very much like an informative businessman, I explained, "See here Jerry, on tumblr there are a variety of blogs that specialize in certain aspects of a fandom. Mine here, properly entitled 'Glory Fuck No Hetalia Dumb Shits', specializes in how stupid Hetalia fans are."

Jerry frowned. "You do realize that Sherry is still a fan of that."

I nodded. "Yes, I do, but she has nothing to do with this. Hetalia is insulting. What kind of person would want to watch a bunch of gay men who portray the countries in a completely insulting manner while having sex with each other?"

He took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. He asked, "You do realize that that's not what it's about."

Was there a challenging tone in his voice? I raised a humored eyebrow. How very interesting. "And you would know this how?"

The twin suddenly realized his tone and looked down with embarrassment. He muttered a soft apology before saying in an equally low manner, "Well, I may have watched a few episodes."

I rolled my eyes. "That's not surprising. How many?"

"One or two seasons. It's not actually half bad."

The house phone started ringing, the shrill noise blending nicely with the soft pattering of the rain. Neither one of us made a move to answer it. "So you're telling me that you actually like watching gay porn?" I asked.

"It's not gay porn!" He snapped, or at least his weak version of one. "It's actually really funny and most of the characters are straight-"

"Most?" I rose from my seat and got right into his face. Our noses were touching, somehow causing his face to grow even redder. Seriously, this kid needs to get a backbone or get his blushing problem checked out. No one can blush so much and not have something wrong with their face.

Jerry twiddled his thumbs and he refused to make eye contact. "W-well Holy Rome loved Italy, but he thought he was a girl," he stuttered. "And Sweden is only gay for Finland-"

I grimaced. In a mocking manner, I tapped the tip of his nose, an action that sent the boy backing into the kitchen counter. "I find that very insulting for the Swedish," I said, barely noticing that the phone had stopped ringing. "Who would want to have their country be gay?"

"What's wrong with being gay?" Jerry _snapped. _I backed away, giving him enough space to escape. That wasn't his soft snap- that was a real 'I am just about ready to commit first degree homicide' snap. Whatever I said obviously hit a weak spot.

I opened my mouth, ready to demand what his problem was when-

"Shit! Larry! Jerry!"

* * *

**Fangirls and Fanboys, BFTLandMWandSEK proudly present** **the second installment of **_**The Fanseries**_**: "**_**The Fanboy".**_

**Release Date: December 1, 2012**

**See you there!**


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